Blood Red Wine
by Blood Diamond13
Summary: Love, it's a strong word. It can conquer and kill all at once. Responsible for the births and deaths of many, this word is in the hearts of all, somewhere. But mistaken for love, can sometimes be something very fatal. It's almost like drinking spiked, blood red wine.
1. Spiked

Morticia Addams was stunningly beautiful, the most enchanting fourty year old woman -let alone with three children- on earth, and elsewhere. Tonight, after hearing the wonderful news, she was determined to celebrate.

Finally, after three years of his worry and sadness, Pugsley was finally going to bring home a girl.

He was now five foot eight, his Uncle Fester's height. He was around one hundred seventy pounds, and plump. His har was still the same light brown. He wore black pants or black shorts now, and his stripped shirts sometimes differed from black and white, and were black and another color -dark, of course.

Morticia hadn't really heard much about her near eighteen year old son's girl, all she heard was that her name was Alison, she was just beautiful, and that they were going to love her. Morticia had also heard that she was quite the gardener.

Estatic, but showing little to none of it on her face, she finsiehd changing into her black lingerie. It was a black push up bra with silver spikes on the breasts, and it had silk coming off of it with matching panties. Yes, tonight, Morticia Addams was going to celebrate. For the first time since the trajec, untimely death of Wednesday's former lover, things were going right.

Gomez knew nothing of his wife's suprise for him. He was in his red nightshirt and black pajama bottoms, smoking his signature cigar when he walked into their bedroom. His eyes burned with their ever roaring, passionate fire when he saw his gorgeous wife. "Cara mia." He adressed her, breathlessly.

Morticia stood up from the bed, walked over to him and let him take her in his arms and kiss her. "Mon cher..." She purred. "Gomez, darling, I've decided to night is the perfect night to celebrate Pugsley finally finding someone."

"Oh, Tish..." Gomez smiled and chucked his cigar, excitedly. "My thoughts exactly."

"Well, then we shouldn't waste any time." Morticia replied, in a sultry tone of voice.

Gomez took her in his arms and lied her on the bed. He had mixed emotions as he loved the way her new... _outfit_ , looked on her perfect form, but he just couldn't wait to tear it off of her.

Morticia immidiatley captured his lips with her own, and did not let them go.

After a while, Gomez began leaving a long trail of kisses down her body, removing her lingerie skillfully as he did so. When he moved back up, he just needed to take off the top part, but the long, sharp, silver spikes cut his chest slightly.

Gomez winced but enjoyed the sensation. His blood, the same color as his wife's nails, dripped down his chest. He continued to kiss her, and finally they were both free of their somewhat constricting clothing articles.

And into the night, the lover's screamed eachother's names, thankful their bedroom was large and secluded.

The next morning, Morticia was taking a hot bath when Gomez, fully clothed and ready for the day, walked in. "Carita, excelent news."

"What, darling?" Morticia asked, excited.

"Pugsley's new girlfriend is coming over for dinner tonight." Gomez responded.

"Marvelous. I can't wait to meet the young lady. I'm sure she's absolutely bleak."

"Oh, Tish." He walked over to the tub and kissed her hand, and Morticia moaned at his touch. "I only hope that Pugsley has found someone he can worship and adore as I do, you." Gomez told her.

Morticia smiled, her beautiful, mysterious smile that was almost always reserved for him. "Oh, darling, don't worry... I'm sure he has."

Gomez growled deeply. "I suppose I should go check on Pugsley."

Lost in his eyes, Morticia replied -sidetracked. "Yes, of course."

He kissed her very pale pink lips, which were as soft as the rose petals she often snipped. She hadn't put her makeup on yet, but she was still just as beautiful and her cheekbones were just as prominant.

After this, Gomez walked into his son's bedroom and found a now eight year old Pubert, watching the snow fall through his elder brother's window.

Pubert was skinny, and of average height for a boy his age. He had pale skin, like his mother and dark brown eyes. He even had a little mustache, like his father. He only really ever wore black, but his outfits were like a mix of a mini version of Gomez and a male version of Morticia. And his full head of hair was as black as the night.

"Son, have you seen your brother?" Gomez asked.

Pubert turned his head towards his father and nodded. "He's in the bathroom, father. He's trying to put on a nice outfit, for the lady who's coming over."

"Oh. And why are you in his room?"

"I wanted to help him get ready." Pubert paused. When he spoke, he sounded like a child but his words were those of someone much older than he. "I hate to break it to you, father. But Pugsley doesn't exactly have the best fashion sense. D'accord?"

Gomez chuckled. "I see your picking up a lot of French from your mother."

"Qui." Pubert replied.

Gomez walked over to his son and patted him on the back. "It'll help to know all of that French when you meet a girl someday."

"Oh, I already did."

Gomez raised an eyebrow. "Really? Who?"

"Her name's Anastasia. She moved here from France. I've been trying to learn more French so I could talk to her in her native language."

"Ah, I see. Does she like you?"

"Well, I asked her, _voulez-vous loger ma tortue quelque temps_? And she said, _Qui._ That's good, right?"

Gomez hesitated. He _was_ getting better, but... "Pubert, what were you trying to say to her?"

"Isn't it obvious? _Do you want to visit my house sometime?_ " Pubert replied.

"Uh, son... you are doing quite well so far. But maybe you should take a few lessons from your mother?" Gomez suggested.

"Why?" Pubert asked.

Morticia, fully dressed and ready, walked into the room. "Because, darling, you asked her if she wanted to house your turtle sometime."

"Oh no." Pubert bent his head down, looking defeated.

"Don't be discouraged, Pubert. Your mother can teach you everything you need to know." Gomez said, wrapping an arm around Morticia's waist.

 _"Darling..."_ Morticia tried to be modest.

"Well, if anyone can do it, it's you."

" _Please_ , mother?" Pubert begged.

"Oh, of course I'll help you, dear."

"Thanks, mother!" He paused. "Can you and father buy me a turtle?"

Gomez and Morticia shared an amused look with eachother.

"We'll see about that, son." Gomez said.

Pubert nodded. "Okay, I'll go and tell Pugsley to come in here." Excited, the little boy then ran down the hall, calling for his older brother.

"Gomez, I think it would be appropriate if I were to go downstairs." Morticia said.

"Why is that, my darling?" Gomez asked.

"Because, mon cher, this is more of a father-son, moment. I don't want to cut into that." Morticia explained.

"Oh, querida, you wouldn't be cutting into anything." Gomez told her, then kissed her neck. "You know I'd give anything to never, ever have to leave your side."

 _"Mmm..."_ Morticia caught herself, she was getting sidetracked. "Yes, darling. I know _you_ want me here for this, but what about our son? And besides, darling, if I'm here it might... distract you from your moment."

Gomez wasn't going to lie. "Cara mia, you are right." He told her. "I'll be downstairs soon."

"Alright, darling."

Gomez then passionatley kissed her before she exited the room.

Pugsley soon walked in, to his father smoking a cigar.

"Hello, father." Pugsley greeted him.

Gomez turned to find his son, looking quite handsome.

He had on a lovely black suit with a touch of purple in it. His necktie, however, which was purple and hat black bat designs on it, was on the wrong way.

"Here, son. Let me fix that." Gomez held the cigar in his mouth and fixed Pugsley's tie. He took a step back to stare at his son.

"I remember when you were still in your little guillotine, with Wednesday trying to sever your head." Gomez reminisced. "And now, here you are. Eighteen and bringing home women..." Gomez chuckled. "You rascal."

 _"Father!"_ Pugsley laughed. "Thanks for being so... supportive about this. And for lending me the tie. I know Great Grandpa Eisenheimer gave it to you."

"Pugsley, _keep_ the tie." Gomez said.

"Really?" Pugsley asked.

Gomez nodded. "Great Grandpa Eisenheimer would want you to have it."

Pugsley then pulled his father in for a big hug. "Thanks, father. I can't wait for you to meet Alison. She's just my type."

"I'm sure she is." Gomez, not breaking the hug, looked into his son's eyes. "But promise me you won't di what Uncle Fester did, and jumo into this too fast with someone who may or may not be right for you."

"i promise on my grave." Pugsley said, not breaking their gaze.

Gomez patted his son on the back. "Good boy. Your mother and I are so very proud of you."

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Pugsley, a nervous wreck, broke the hug. _"She's here!"_

Lurch answered the door, but Morticia wanted to take over from there.

Morticia stood face to face with a woman, about five foot seven. She had short brown hair in a bob, peircing brown eyes and fair white skin. She was wearing a red dress, a white fur coat and white gloves with three inch white high heels. The woman looked to be in her early to mid-fourties.

Morticia cordially, semi-smiled at her. "Hello, you must be Alison's mother." Morticia craned her neck just a tad so she could look to see where Alison was. She couldn't see though because the window's were so black, and on top of that, it was snowing quite hard. "Where's your daughter?" Morticia asked, politely.

Unfazed, the woman spoke. "I have no daughter." She replied.

Before Morticia could respond, Pugsley appeared some ten feet behind her.

 _"Mother."_ He paused. "That's _her_. That's Alison."


	2. That's Her That's Alison

Morticia was completely taken aback, but maintained her composure. She was not merely taken aback, she was absolutely floored. This woman was older than she was!

"I see." Morticia nodded. "Well, please come right in, Alison."

"Thank you, Mrs. Addams." Alsion walked into the house, the door shutting behind her. She sounded a bit prudent, she had a snooty edge to her voice.

You No, perhaps that snooty edge was in Mrs. Addams' mind. "Please, call me Morticia." Morticia replied.

"Oh, what an unsual name."

"Why, thank you. My father thought of it."

"Oh, does he live here?" Alsion asked.

"No, my father is unfortunatley deceased." Morticia said, a bit solemn as although time had passed, it was still a wound for her that had yet to be healed. She didn't talk about his death much, even though it happened twenty four years ago.

"My condolences." There was then a breif moment of silence. "Ah well, easy come, easy go." Alison sighed.

Morticia's eyes grew wide, she was suprised at the degree of politeness Alsion's statement lacked.

"Where does one put their coat around here?" Alison asked.

"Oh, Lurch can take it." Morticia replied.

Lurch came and took Alison's coat before Morticia could move a muscle. He exited with it then, groaning.

"Well, Alison, let me introduce you to the rest of my family." Pugsley took her hand.

Morticia then led the... couple into the living room where Pubert, Gomez and Máma were sitting. Uncle Fester -who lived just down the street- would've come but he was taking care of a nine months pregnant Dimentia. And Wednesday was away at the end of her first year in college, in Los Angeles.

Gomez looked up, strangely at his wife. _"Where's Alsion?"_ He mouthed.

Morticia, knowing Alison was now right behind her, did the only thing she could do. "Elle est la femme à côté de notre fils." She said.

Gomez's eyes grew wide, as Morticia's had.

Morticia simply nodded and took her seat next to her husband on the couch.

Gomez held her waist tightly. He ran a hand up and down her back -unbeknownst to anyone else- to try and calm the both of them down. He knew what she was feeling, it was the same as what he was feeling.

Morticia took a silent, deep breath in. "Please, sit." She said to Alison.

She sat in a chair across from Gomez and Morticia, and Pugsley sat in the chair adjacent to that one. Máma and Pubert were sitting at the small table where Gomwz and Thing often arm wrestled.

"Would you like some coffee, or tea?" Morticia asked.

"Coffee." Alison nodded.

"Cream, sugar, arsenic or cyanide?" Morticia asked.

Alison got a weird look on her face. "Uh... cream."

Morticia nodded. "Alright." She then took a small, pocket sized gong off of the table next to her and rang it.

The house shook, and Alison nearly jumped out of her seat.

Pugsley put a hand her arm. "Don't worry, Aly. It's just how we call our butler."

"Oh." Alison situated herself once more.

Lurch walked over to Morticia. "You rang, Mrs. Addams?" He asked.

"Yes. Lurch would you please bring some coffee for Alsion?"

Lurch nodded. "Cream, sugar, arse-"

 _"Cream."_ Alison sighed.

"Would you like anything, Mrs. Addams?" He asked her.

"Tea with just a pinch of cyanide, please, Lurch." Morticia ordered.

"Yes, Mrs. Addams." Lurch responded.

"Thank you, Lurch, that will be all."

Lurch nodded once, groaned and exited, shaking his head.

Gomez knew he had to talk to this woman, and and Addams couldn't be too quick to judge. So, he picked up the conversation. "So, Alison? How long have you known our son?"

"Oh, about a month."

Gomez nodded.

"A month?" Morticia asked.

"Indeed." Alison replied.

"I see. What do you do for a living?"

"I'm an orthadontist. But my dream is to be president some day." Alison replied.

Morticia thought for sure her heart was going to burst, and not in the good way. It couldn't get any worse. She felt herself leaning back enough for her husband to get the message, so he held her in his arms.

"Oh... well, that's very... interesting." Gomez took the lead. He didn't know what else to ask her, he was still recovering from several bad shocks.

"I'm fourty five." Alison replied.

Gomez and Morticia were at a loss for words.

"And she looks just great for it, doesn't she?" Pugsley asked, he earned a look from Alison. "I mean, beautiful. Beautiful, for her age. Which really isn't much older than me anyway."

"Don't be preposterous, dear." Alison said. "I _know_ I look quite good for my age. You don't have to tell me. Anyway," she turned her attention to Gomez and Morticia. "I know how strange this must be for you, but there isn't a better person for your son."

 _"I'm not so sure about that."_ Gomez mumbled under his breath.

Morticia squeezed his hand, she heard what he said.

"Trust me." Alison smiled.

"It's kinda hard to trust you, we just met." Máma spoke. "I'm Pugsley's grandma. It's nice to meet you. This," she gestured to Pubert. "Is Pugsley's little brother, Pubert. And the man across from you is obviously Pugsley's father, his name is Gomez. You can call me Máma, everyone does. But this doesn't mean I trust you. Because we just met." Máma was always the member of the family who got to the point.

"Understood." Alison was obviously a bit offended, and seemed not to like Pugsley's witch-like grandmother.

There wasn't much talking after the tea and coffee was brought out. Soon came dinner, and then it was the end of the night. And then, Alison said something that caught everybody except Pugsley off guard.

"Can Lurch grab my bags out of the car?"

 _"Bags?"_ Morticia asked.

"Yes, I'll be staying with you for a week or so. Didn't Pugsley tell you?"

All Morticia had to do was give her children one look, and they knew she wasn't happy. And that's exactly what she did with Pugsley. "No, Alison. He neglected to mention that to us."

Alison sighed. "I see he neglected to mention a lot of things to you." She shook her head. _"Tsk, tsk, tsk."_

Gomez was about to say something but Morticia squeezed his hand again.

"Alright. Well, seeing as you've made no other plans, yes. Lurch will get your bags."

That night, Morticia and Gomez had goteen into their nightclothes and were completely exhausted.

Morticia sat on the bed and Gomez massaged her shoulders. She was sore with worry.

"Darling, what are we going to do?" Morticia asked and pushed her hair over her left shoulder.

Gomez sighed. "I don't know, Tish. I never thought _Pugsley_ , of all people would bring home someone like that."

"Do you think we celebrated to early?" Morticia asked.

Gomez kissed her neck. "Nonsense, my dear. I wouldn't trade our celebration for the world."

"We did have quite the night, didn't we?" Morticia asked.

"Oh, we did, cara mia." He sighed and moved his hands up to her neck. "It feels like only yesterday, we married."

"I know what you mean, mon amour. The years go by so quickly, don't they?"

"Indeed. You're even more beautiful than when I first saw you." He wrapped his hands around her waist and layden down, holding her in his arms. "I don't know how it's possible for someone to grow more enchanting by the minute." He said.

"Darling... _this_ is what I want for Pugsley. I want him to have someone he can have a magnificent life with. I want someone to feel the way I feel about you towards him. I want him to be happy and to be able to have a lifetime full of beautiful days and breathtaking nights." Mortcia closed her eyes.

"Tish... you don't think she can give that to him?" He asked.

Morticia opened her eyes. "No, darling. I don't." A couple of silent tears then fell.

Gomez ran a gentle hand down her ghostly pale cheek, wiping away her tears. "It's alright, my darling." He held her tighter, and rocked side to side. "Do you remember our song from our first honeymoon?"

"How could I forget?" Morticia asked.

Gomez then covered the both of them up with a blanket, as he was holding her. He then sighed and quietly sang to her. "At the stroke of midnight, the vultures take their moonlit flight. The darkness surrounds, and the people are frightened."

"But the raven says don't worry now." Morticia sang, along with him. "Softly lie and whisper, goodbye, sweet sanity."

"Goodbye, sweet sanity."

The candle went out and Gomez noticed his wife was asleep, her head in a comfortable position against his neck.

Gomez closed his eyes then, his arms still tight around his beloved, and hoped for the worst.

Alison was going to stay in the guestroom and Pugsley came in to brush her hair.

"Oh, Pugsley, dear. Don't use that one. It's old. Here." She handed him a shiny, rose petal pink brush and he used that instead. It matched her silky, short, strapy nightgown. "I don't think your parents like me."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Aly. Of course they like you, they were just a little bit shocked at... our age gap." He said.

"Don't call me ridiculous." She snapped.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

"I'm sorry, too. I'm just nervous about all of this. Your family seems very nice. And your mother's very pretty. But how old was she when she gave birth to you? She looks young."

"Oh, well-"

"Was that rude?"

"No, Aly. She was twenty two when she had me." He said.

Alison was a bit jealous. Morticia looked to be someone who looked good for their early/mid- _thirties_. "I see."

"Alison, how would you like to go on a date tomorrow? We can go see _Night of the Dead_."

"Isn't that _Night of the Living Dead_?" She asked.

"Not this movie." Pugsley chuckled.

"That sounds delightful." Alison replied.

Pugsley kissed her cheek and walked out.

Alison smiled and crawled into bed. Then, she turned on this week's episode of her favorite show, _Killer Cougars_.


	3. The Graduate

It had been almost five months, and it was now the day of Pugsley's graduation. The entire family, Itt and Margret and What, Fester and Dimentia, Morticia and Gomez, Máma, and Pubert all were there watching him. Wednesday had even flown up from L.A. with her boyfriend, Joel whom she had reunited with. And Alison, also attended.

When it was announced that Pugsley had never gotten an _A_ in a single subject, in his entire school carreer, the family except the confused Alison gave him a thunderous standing ovation, whilst everyone else stared. It was an acheivment any Addams boy should be proud of, he was the first in the family to do so.

The graduation party was magnificent. The events took place in the large ballroom where both of Uncle Fester's engagemnt party had been.

Gomez was so proud of his son. True, he did not approve of his lover, but at least he wasn't diving too deep or pushing anything too far. They had preformed _The Mumushka_ for him about a song ago.

All of the couples took to the dance floor for waltzing. Of course, Gomez and Morticia didn't take to the dance floor, they stole it.

"Gomez... can you believe our Pugsley's graduated?" Morticia asked as they danced.

"No, Tish. I can't. I remember when he was a little boy, playing with his trains and decapitating Wednesday's dolls." Gomez replied.

"I don't care how old Pugsley gets, I've always told him that he'll always be my little vermin."

"You're a wonderful mother, Tish." Gomez replied and kissed her hand, moving up her arm until he met her lips.

"Mmm... mon cher." Morticia moaned.

They stayed like that, still dancing. Kissing, his hands on her hips.

Alison and Pugsley had danced for a little while, and Alison soon grew tired of it.

"I'm going to get some punch, Pugsley." She said.

"Alright." Pugsley replied and they stopped dancing.

Alison walked over to the punch bowl and was immideatley greeted by Wednesday.

"Hello, Alison." Wednesday was not perky, nor did she like the woman before her. She felt uneasy around her, her entire family did. And she was not about to let Alison in to control her brother.

"Hi, Wednesday. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Right." He paused. "What do you see in my brother?"

Alison was taken aback by the question. "I see a good-looking man, who's quite charming. He's kind to me, and..." she looked Wednesday in the eyes. "He has a lot of potential."

Alramed but showing zero amount of emotion, Wednesday stared directly into Alison's soul and spoke. "I see. Alison, just know that while I may be living in L.A. for the time being, I will be watching you. I will know what you're doing even if I'm not around. I will never leave this family, and I'll be here to take you out if needed. Understood?"

Alison nodded. "Yes. But I must warn you, I'm not a cheap date." She then turned and walked back to her young lover.

When she returned to the dance floor, she dropped her glass punch on the floor, causing it to shatter.

There was Pugsley, having the time of his life dancing with another woman. She was very young, looked about sixteen or seventeen. She looked to be about five foot six, and she had pale skin, and platinum blonde, straight hair down to her upper back. She had beautiful, big blue-brown eyes and was petite, with a doll-like structure. She was wearing a classy, silky high-low dress that was red from the waist up, and had black gothic designs on it as well as black ties in the front, it was black from the waist down. Her eye makeup matched her dress, and her lips were very pale but looked soft. Her nails were black, and she wore black flats with ankle straps. She had on a black charm bracelet with a red spider bangle hanging from it. She looked so happy with him there, so childlike yet mature at the same time.

Enraged, Alison shoved the two apart. "What the hell do you think your doing?"

Pugsley was extremely upset by this. "Alison, what on earth?"

The girl stayed where she was but looked apologetic. "I am so sorry, I wasn't trying to hurt anyone."

"And you! What do you think you're doing?"

"I was just dancing, I-"

"What are you doing with him, hmm? Don't play innocent!"

Pugsley had his arm around the girl and looked at her. "This isn't your fault, Delilah. I'll explain."

Delilah nodded. "Alright. Thank you for the dance, Pugsley." Amd with that, she walked away, not looking Alison in the eyes.

"Who the hell _was_ she?" Alison asked.

Disgusted, Pugsley spoke. "Alison, that was my cousin's closest and dearest friend. She happens to be a friend of mine as well. She has cancer, Alison and she's undergoing treatment. They said if this doesn't work, she probably won't make it. So, we're all trying to give her a wonderfully bleak time, with what little time she has left. For all we know, that could've been the last dance of her life!"

Alison was dumbfounded. "I see."

"I need alone time." Pugsley said and walked away.

He didn't come back for the rest of the night, and Alison decided to go upstairs to his bedroom. She came in, and instantly put her head in her hands, and began to cry.

Pugsley led her to the bed, sat down next to her and put an arm around her. "Alison, I'm sorry about what happened back there. I should've told you that I might be dancing with Delilah tonight. But please, don't feel so compelled to blow up before you understand the full story. I'm comitted to you."

Alison then took his arms in her hands and looked him in the eyes. "Yes, but do you love me?" She asked.

Puglsey felt as if he were under some sort of spell when he looked into her eyes. "Of course I love you."

"Oh, Pugsley! I've been so stupid. I'll probably have no chance of ever earning your trust back again."

"No, no. Don't say that, Aly. You're a wonderful woman and... and I really _do_ love you."

Alison took his hands. "I love you, too."

Pugsley's eyes popped with affection. "Alison, from the moment I met you, I knew we were meant to be together." He told her. "Aly, I love you. I love you so much."

Alison put a hand on his cheek. "I love you too!"

Pugsley kissed her, and then knelt down by the bed. And taking both of Alison's hands, he uttered the words, "Will you marry me?"


	4. Over My Decaying Corpse

It was late that night, and Morticia awoke, in a panic. She couldn't recall the nightmare she had just had. Inadvertantly, she took a deep breath in, upset.

Gomez jolted awake and held her. "Tish, what's the matter?" He asked.

"I don't know, darling." Morticia told him, honestly. "I can't remember but I just have this feeling..."

"What feeling?" He asked.

"I feel like something terrible is about to happen." Morticia confessed.

Gomez stroked her hair. "Don't worry, carita. Nothing is going to happen."

"Gomez, I think it has something to do with Pugsley."

"It's alright." He kissed her head. "You're just a bit rattled from our recent conversation, my darling. I promise you, I won't let anything happen to you or our son."

Morticia closed her eyes. However, she couldn't sleep. It wasn't that she didn't feel safe, no. It was that she didn't trust that woman... but maybe she was being too overprotective.

"Come on, cara mia, try to get some sleep now." Gomez leaned back, not letting go of his passion flower.

"I can't, not with everything on my mind." Morticia sighed. "But, my not being able to fall asleep shouldn't have to keep you awake."

"Nonsense, if you're going to stay awake, I'll stay awake with you." Gomez said and put his arm around her.

She rested her head on his shoulder and moved closer to him. "Darling, you don't have to do that."

"Yes, Morticia, I do. Now, I have a suggestion." He turned towards her.

"What?" Morticia did the same and turned towards him.

"How about we play a game? Surely after what I have in mind, we'll be both tired _and_ sore."

Morticia smiled, and in a sultry, sarcatic tone replied: "And here I thought we were going to sit down to a game of chess."

Gomez chuckled and got on top of her. "Well, that will make you tired and _bored_. I know that I'd rather be making love to you than doing anything else."

 _"Then prenez-moi, mon amour."_ Morticia replied and captured his lips.

The two soon were screaming eachother's names into the night. And as much as Morticia was enjoying it, she couldn't shake her feelings about Pugsley... or the nagging feeling he had done something wrong.

That morning, Morticia was drinking her henbane tea at the kitchen table, fully dressed -as she and Gomez had woken up later than usual- and sitting next to her husband while Máma prepared lunch.

Pubert had wanted to help and was now doing different minial tasks like fetching th golfer's tale or boiling the newts' eyes, but he was so proud of himself.

Pugsley then proudly walked into the kitchen, dressed and ready for the day.

"Good morning, son." Gomez greeted him.

"Father, mother, I have exciting news for you." He said and sat across from them at the table.

"So ya got rid of it last night?" Máma asked.

"Got rid of what?" A confused Pugsley asked.

 _"Máma."_ Morticia scolded.

"Nothing." Máma shook her head.

Pugsley shrugged this off and continued. "Something impossible, a miracle, really."

Máma pipee up again. "The rash?"

"It's gone?" Pubert asked.

Pugsley shook his head. "Good guess, but that's old news." He then took his mother's hand and looked his parents in the eyes. "Mother, father..." He took a deep breath. "I'm engaged!"

Morticia's heart sank and she felt like she was going to fall over or throw up, or both.

Gomez's eyes quadropled in size. "What?"

"I'm engaged. I asked Alison to marry me last night."

"Darling, don't you think this is a bit too fast?" Morticia asked.

Alison then walked into the kitchen and put a hand on Morticia's shoulder, which was seemingly meant to be gentle, but didn't feel that way.

"When it's love, it's love." Alison replied and walked over to Pugsley, linking her arm in his and holding his hand.

Morticia could still feel Alison's touch and hated it. "Alison, you're awake." She remarked.

"Yes, and I had a wonderful sleep last night, smiling all through it."

Morticia and Gomez shared and alarmed glance.

"Alison, we need to our son in private for a moment, please." Gomez said.

"No, father. Anything you have to say, you can say to the both of us." Pugsley replied.

"Yes, I promise I won't take offense." Alison told them.

"It isn't that." Morticia said. "Trust me, Alison, when I say that my concern is my son and my son _only_. Please, let us speak to him privately." It wasn't like her to be so prickly, but she wasn't just a lady of elegance, darkness and class, she was a mother, and a mother _first_.

Alison nodded. "Okay... yea, I have to go shopping for a dress anyway. Oh, and a veil and some jewelry..." Her voice trailed off. She turned to Pugsley and planted a kiss on his lips. "Goodbye, dear. I'll see you later." She left then, leaving the family to talk.

"I think we'll leave you three alone." Máma then took Pubert and they exited.

"Pugsley, we need to talk."

Pugsley nodded and sat down. "Mother, I know you and father don't approve. But, if it's her age, that should be something you can overlook."

"No, Pugsley, dear. It isn't just her age. She's quite rude, and her sense of style is atrocious. Now all that, all that I can overlook. But Pugsley, she has you under a spell. You're like a dog around her, dear. She acts like some sort of a strict boarding school teacher who had too much to drink." Morticia confessed.

 _"Can"t you see that we're perfect for eachother?"_ Pugsley asked, hurt.

"No." Morticia stated.

Pugsley stood. _"For God's sake, why can't you both just be happy for me? Ya know, just because people can't be like you, mother doesn't mean their bad! So what if she likes pastels and so what if she's a year or two older than you are! I **love** her!"_

Gomez, infuriated, slammed his hands on the table and stood.

Morticia put a hand on his forearm, in an effort to silently remind him to watch his temper.

 _"Are you even hearing yourself, Pugsley?"_ He yelled. _"Pugsley, what did I make you promise me before we met Alison? What did I make you promise me?"_

Pugsley mumbled.

 _"Look me in the eyes and say it."_ Gomez waited. _ **"Now."**_

Pugsley looked his father in the eyes. "I promised you I wouldn't do what Uncle Fester did, and jump into something too fast with someone who isn't right for me."

Gomez was even more outraged. _"Exactly! Damn it, Pugsley! I gave you that tie because I trusted you! I will not let you make the same mistake that your Uncle did! It almost cost him **everything** , do you understand me? **I will be damned** if I am going to lose you to this woman! How could you be so naive? God, Pugsley, how could you do this? Do you realize that this woman could make you a **responsible, productive member of society**?"_

 _"That woman's name is Alison!"_ Pugsley shouted back.

 _"Are you even listening to me?"_ Gomez shouted.

"Well, father, what if I want to be a responsible, productive member of society? Hmm, is that so wrong?"

Those words immideatley broke Morticia's heart. "Pugsley, go to your room." She commanded, fighting back tears.

"Mother, I'm not a child anymore-"

 _"To. Your. Room. Right this moment!"_ She yelled. She didn't even know she _could_ yell like that.

Without another word, likely in shock, Pugsley marched upstairs to his bedroom.

Gomez sat back down and looked at his wife.

Morticia's dam cracked a d her tears flowed out. " _Oh, Gomez!_ Where have we failed that boy?" She cried.

"Tish, please, please don't cry." He held her and she cried into his shoulder.

"Gomez," she wept. "Darling, what are we going to do? He's eighteen now. Legally..." She couldn't bare to say it.

Gomez shook his head. "No. Screw the law, over my decaying corpse will he marry that woman."


	5. Torn Up Tie

Plans for the wedding were in full swing.

Alison and Pugsley were agreeing on everything, and it was torture for the entire family.

Wednesday and Joel ended up taking a leave of two weeks from college to help prepare for the wedding and to attend it, neither of which they approved of.

Fester, Dimentia, Itt, What and Margaret were even skeptical, though they, too agreed to participate.

It was only Gomez and Morticia that at first did not agree to do such a thing. It wasn't until after a long talk with eachother that they decided to help make plans. However, they were opposed to the whole thing and any chance they got would subtly attempt to talk their deranged son out of it.

Morticia, Wednesday, Dimentia, Margaret and six other women were in the living room, looking at dresses Alison came out in. Morticia hated it, they were asked to be bridesmaids for some odd reason. Of course they felt very out of place, as the six other women were much more like Alison, and all in their fourties or early fifites. They wore bright or pastel colored suits and flamboyant hats or headpeices. And all they wanted to talk about how they were wealthy widows, or their six figure sons, or their rich husbands, or -which disgusted Morticia to no end- daisies, daisies, daisies.

Alison walked out in another humungous, white wedding gown. It was sleeveless, and was cut down to above her belly button. It was strapless, and had no train but was large enough to _be_ a train. It had a matching flower headpeice and white gloves.

Morticia, Dimentia and Wednesday shared a look of disgust. Margaret attempted to get along with the stuck-up women and was uncomfortably sitting with them.

"What do you girls think?" Alison asked, in a perky tone of voice.

All of Alison's friends nodded in agreement, and there were different variations of, "That's the one!" or "It's georgous!"

Morticia, Dimentia and Wednesday, on the other hand uttered different variations of, "Are you quite sure?" and "Maybe you should go for something a little bit darker."

Alison _humphed_. "Well, I have a darker dress. But it's not very pretty. I found it at a weird little shop downtown. It said, _For Weddings_ on it."

"Oh, that's a wonderful little shop." Morticia said. "Some of my best friends have bought their wedding dresses there."

"Exactly." Alison replied.

Morticia was about to say something but held her tounge and nodded.

Alison's six friends laughed and at that point Margaret joined the trio on the other couch.

"Try it on anyway, Aly!" One of her friends shouted, still laughing.

Alison soon came out in a dark white, almost cream colored gothic wedding dress. It had droopy, off-shoulder sleeves that looked like spiderwebs and the dress had the same deign, and it was in a dramatic high-low style. It was a little low-cut in a sweetheart neckline and came with a veil that's attached headpeice was a crown of cream colored roses.

The foursome eyed the dress. They all agreed that it was the most beautiful dress she had tried on.

"That one looks lovely, Alison." Margaret said.

Again, Alison's friends burst out in laughter.

"I don't know, Margaret." Alison said.

"Alison, I have to take a picture for postarity!" Margie, Alison's best girlfriend shouted.

 _"Margie!"_ Alison scolded. "Look, I really am _not_ feeling this dress." She explained. "I liked the first one a hell of a lot better."

The foursome shared an alarmed look with eachother, they weren't sure how many of these looks they'd even shared anymore.

"Do you mean the one with all of the flowers on the train?"

Alison nodded. "Yes, I'll try it on one more tome just to make sure."

"Are you sure?" Dimentia asked. "It was so cheery."

"I know." Alison replied and exited.

Meanwhile, Pugsley was planning his outfit for his wedding day when Gomez walked in.

"Pugsley." He greeted his son, still highly upset with him.

"Father."

Gomez looked over his son's suit. Thankfully, his sense of style hadn't changed. He was going to wear a nice black suit, a red dress shirt, black dress shoes, have a black rose in his pocket, and -Great Grandpa Eisenheimer's tie!

"Pugsley, what are you doing with that tie?" Gomez asked.

"Wearing it for my wedding day." Pugsley said.

"No, Pugsley, you're not." Gomez shook his head. "You broke our promise, what that tie stymbolized! You're out of your mind if you think I'll allow you to disrespect your great grandfather like that!"

Pugsley was taken aback. "I see your still just as angry with me as before."

"You're damn right I'm angry! I trusted you, Pugsley. You betrayed that trust. I am appauled." He paused, then sighed. "I just want you to have a good life, son. And this-"

"This is a good life! Our family, Alison-"

" _Our family_ and _Alison_ do _not_ belong in the same sentence!"

"Well, she _will_ be a part of this family!" Pugsley yelled.

Gomez grabbed the tie. "I am ashamed of you Pugsley, can't you see what that woman is doing to you?"

"She's making me _happy_!" Pugsley yelled and tried to grab back the tie.

"She's making you _crazy_!" Gomez attempted to yank it back, careful not to break it.

"It's my tie, father!"

"It was your grandfather's first!"

"Well, it's mine, now!" Pugsley yanked it back so hard that it ripped into peices.

Gomez's face flushed. He had never been more dissapointed. Slowly, he took the tie and pit it in his pocket. "No, son. Now... now, it's nobody's." He then walked out, not looking back at his son.

When he walked into the bedroom, he heard what sounded like a scream mixed with a deep gasp, coming from their private bathroom.

He knocked on the door. "Tish, are you alright in there?"

Trying to catch her breath, Morticia responded. "Gomez, darling... I have on my dress that I have to wear for the wedding."

"Oh, may I see it?" He asked.

"Gomez... as much as I'd love to come out, I think it's better if I don't."

"Why?" Her adoring husband asked.

"Well, because, mon cher, it's..." She thought for a moment. "To put it mildly, it's hideous."

"That bad?" Gomez asked.

"Yes, darling. I'm afraid so."

"Well, there's no reason for you to be afraid of showing me."

Morticia looked at herself in the mirror. "Oh, yes there is."

"Morticia, I don't care what you're wearing. You could be wearing a humungous daisy and I would still know you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and _will_ ever see. Please, come out."

"Good guess." Morticia replied. "But worse." Hestiantly, she stepped out and immideatley stepped away from the window, even if the curtains were closed.

"Oh, Morticia." He embraced her. "I'm so sorry that you have to endure this."

The dress was horrifying, _let alone_ to an Addams. It was a flowing, silky high-low dress that was sleeveless and low-cut in a queen anne neckline. It was cream colored and had latge flower deisgns lining the drsss. There were floral designed high heels with ankle straps to match.

Morticia sighed. "I don't know what's come over our son."

They broke the embrace and Gomez sat with her on the bed. "Tish, that dress... oh God, I'm so sorry."

"Did you try to talk to him?" Morticia asked.

"Yes. But it turned into another fight." He sighed and took out the torn up tie. "And then this happened."

Morticia carefully picked up the tie and examined it. "Grandpa Eisenheimer's tie."

"He yanked on it after I picked it up and tried to take it, and this was the result."

"Oh, darling, what are we going to do?" Morticia asked and wept as her husband held her.

"Tish... I have no idea." He confessed.

Morticia stopped crying then. "Gomez, we can start by being silent."

"You mean, we shouldn't say anything to him?"

Morticia nodded. "We should let him see for himself. You know, put Alison in situations where she acts out, becomes the Alison that everybody else knows. The Alison that doesn't apologize. I saw it when she first arrived."

"You did?"

"A glimpse of it. She asked if my father lived here."

Gomez was afraid of where this was going, knowing how much of a fresh wound his death still was.

"I explained that he was unfortunatley deceased. And, she replied with _Well, easy come, easy go_."

"Oh, Tish... I'm so sorry."

"No, I'm sorry. That was the first time I didn't listen to my gut, and I should have."

"Darling, before I had my argument with Pugsley, I-"

They heard an ear-pericing scream coming from down the hall, and knew exactly what it was.

The pair ran to Wednesday's room. She was standing in her mirror, histerical. She was in her bridesmaid's attire.

"Wednesday, darling. Believe me, I understand your pain." Morticia told her daughter and walked over to her.

Wednesday, still horrified and in shock, turned to face her mother. She backed away. "Who are you and what have you done with my mother?"

"Darling." Morticia shook her head. "I know, it's disturbing, but it's me."

"Mother, don't take this the wrong way, but this is very... startling. If I'm being perfectly honest, I think I'd forgotten that you had legs."

Morticia nodded. "Well, I have to leave _something_ to the imagination." Morticia really wasn't the joking type, but she could with her daughter, they understood eachother's humor.

Wednesday chuckled. "True. Speaking of which," she looked down at her rather exposed cleavage. "I don't think I'm comfortable with this."

"Oh, darling, I promise you still look very beautiful." Gomez tried to comfort her.

Morticia sighed. "Well, if _I'm_ being perfectly honest, I think I'd forgotten you had an upper half." She was referring to Wednesday's high collar dresses that left everything from the waist up to the imagination.

"I don't." Wednesday said. "Mother, I'm five foot three, one hundred twenty pounds, and a size 34B. What upper half?"

Morticia shook her head. "Well, you still _have_ one. And nevertheless, I think we can both agree that these dresses are the worst thing since Disneyworld."

Wednesday nodded. "Alright, well I tired it on. Can we change now?"

"Yes, darling. That sounds like a fine idea."

With that, Morticia and Gomez left the room and walked upstairs. Morticia then changed into her usual attire and was more appreciative of it than ever.

When she walked out of the closet, she found her husband, sitting on the bed, exhausted with worry. She walked over to him.

And of course, no matter how tired, he still took her by the waist, sat her on his lap and held her. He kissed her neck.

"Darling, you looked miserable, and not in the good way. What's the matter?"

Gomez raised an eyebrow.

" _Besides_ everying else?"

"Tish, I was going to break some rather awful news to you before Wednesday had a panic attack." He said.

"What is it, mon amour?" Morticia asked and leaned her head back, equally exhausted.

"The wedding... it's tomorrow."


	6. Age Before Beauty

The wedding was to be held at the Addams' mansion, and the staged pictured of the wedding party were to be taken that afternoon in the cemetary.

Try as they might, Morticia and Gomez never got Pugsley to see Alison for who she was. Afterall, love is blind.

The wedding party took a few pictures of all of the groomsman -Gomez being one of them- doing weird poses like swinging their jackets above their heads. They all had to wear reverse versions of Pugsley's tuxedoes. Yes, the groom _and_ his men looked very out of place at the wedding.

They took some pictures of the bridesmaids and groomsman together, the couples or just the person they would walk out with for the ceremony.

Morticia and Gomez looked more in love than anybody else did, which came as a shock to Alison's friends. They were very conservative -tacky and rude, yes, but conservative- ladies and were less than appreciative when ar any given moment, the pair would either be gazing at eachother adoringly or somewhere by a tree, necking and/or tounging. However, the women were truthfully jealous that they couldn't have what they did, because the men they went for were rich but average, all American businessmen.

The décor was ghastly, it had a white isle, and everthing was floral. Alison tried to hint daisies anywhere she could, even poor Cousin Itt -whom officiated the wedding- had to wear a hat with a daisy attatched to it.

The ceremony soon began, and the groomsman were to go up to the white stand Cousin Itt had helped paint first. Puglsey was the first one there, waiting for his bride to walk to him. Morticia was infront of Alison, the last bridesmaid whom was supposed to walk up to the stand.

Morticia looked at Alison, who had some sort of odd, demented gleam in her eye. "Alison, I think you should go first."

"Why?" Alison aksed.

"You know, because of the old saying." Morticia responded, coyly.

"What old saying?" Alison asked.

Morticia slightly smiled, but Alison didn't see that. "You know the one."

Annoyed and offended, as Alison thought she did know, she snapped. "What?"

But, Morticia walked up to the stand with the rest of the bridesmaids and didn't hear, or care to hear, a word she had said.

Cousin Itt began the ceremony then, and soon enough it was time for Pugsley to say his vows.

Pugsley remembered the argument with his father, the endless talks with his parents, the hatred the family had toward Alison, the pushing of Delilah... and for a breif moment, he thought about calling it off, about waiting. But then, he looked into her eyes, and he fell under that same, strange, captivating spell. And he spoke. "Alison Loraine Belle, I've loved you since the day I met you. You're beautiful, and you're kind. I knew I wanted to make you mine." He took a deep breath. "So I, Pugsley Addams, do hereby declare, my unending love. I will worship you forever, I will devote my every waking moment to your happiness alone." He held back tears. "Henceforth, I am your eternal and helpless slave." Love in his eyes, he finished his vows.

Alison smiled, and her smile looked wicked. "Wow. Same."

Everyone held their applause, waiting. When Alison did not continue, Cousin Itt asked the customary, _Does any one object to this wedding?_

Morticia and Gomez practically jumped. "Yes!" They said, in unison.

Everyone gasped, unsure if they were happy or not.

"Pugsley," Morticia began and looked at her son, whom only had eyes for Alison. "Pugsley, look at me."

Pugsley seemed like he didn't even hear her.

Morticia sighed, not ready to give up. "Alright. Pugsley, I know you should wait. I don't want you making a mistake. This could end up being the biggest regret of your life!" She was calling to him, trying to bring him out of his trance. "Please, think about what your doing!"

It was Gomez's turn now. "Pugsley, son."

Still, no response.

"Your mother and I will always love you, no matter what. But son, this will be your biggest regret. I saw it for a breif moment in your eyes, I know I did. It was the same look that was in my eyes after I drove off your Uncle Fester."

For a half a second, Pugsley looked at his father.

" _Don't_ do this." Gomez finished his plea.

"Father..." Pugsley said under his breath. But Alison squeezed his hand, and his eyes were again locked with her's.

Cousin Itt babbled, confused. He then gave a sympathetic phrase and movement to Morticia and Gomez. He had to continue the ceremony. Realistically, what the bride and groom wanted today, they got.

After that, Alison pulled Pugsley in and kissed him as the sun set.

Morticia and Gomez shared an alarmed look once more, for the thousandth time... but in the end, it was up to young Pugsley to make the right decision... and he, had failed.

Alison held her boquet as she and her new husband stood beside the white limo.

"Alison, throw it!" Margie screamed.

Alison rolled her eyes and tossed the boquet. When Wednesday caught it, just as she had at her uncle'a wedding... she felt a nausiating sense of deshavu.

Pugsley hugged his father, and then Alison kissed him before he could hug his mother, but Morticia hugged him quickly before Alison then shoved him into the limo.

Morticia then walked up to the limo's opne window and looked Alison in the eyes. "It appears you _have_ heard the old saying." She said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Alison asked, angrily.

"It was right of you to kiss him before I could hug him. You know, you _are_ five years my senior." She said, referring to Alison nearly not letting her hug her son.

" _Leave me alone._ Ever heard the term, _respect your elders_?" Alison asked.

The car was going to drive off, and Gomez walked over to his wife just before she uttered her parting words to her new daughter-in-law.

Then she took a silent breath, and straight to her face replied, "Ever heard the term, _age before beauty_?"


	7. He Saw Violet

"A woman once told me, that the key to a successful honeymoon was romantic music. Especially on a Carribean cruise." Alison said and turned on her casette player. It soon played _Bed of Roses_ by Bon Jovi.

Pugsley leaned back on the bed. "I think you should know Alison, I'm a virgin." He told her.

"Oh, Pugsley. That doesn't bother me." She said and looked through his bag on the nightstand.

"What are you looking for?" He asked.

"Just some money... to tip room service tomorrow."

"Alison, I have about two thousand in my wallet. After all, we're only staying for a week. But legally, the hundreds of thousands, of trillions belong to my parents and my uncle."

"So, you're broke?" Alison asked.

"No. I'm not. I have about a billion dollars in my name, in a little safe marked _Pugsley_ in a safe, we can pick it up when we go home."

"Oh, I see." Alison climbed on top of him. "Are you ready?" She asked.

"Yes, and Uncle Fester already told me. No giggling, and no hand puppets."

"Good." She looked into his eyes and kissed him. In that moment, Pugsley thought if he really should be doing this, if this was the way he wanted to lose a part of himself. If he wanted any of this, but when she looked at him... he forgot all that. So, she took it.

And the honeymoon was over as quickly as it started, literally. The next day, Alison payed the ship captain half of all the money they had left and demanded that they dock, so that they could go back home and pick up the money.

Pugsley and Alison were going to have an excruciatingly long flight back home, and for the first time Pugsley looked at Alison and saw something in her eyes... he wasn't sure, but he could have sworn he saw violet.


	8. Pour it Up

Morticia and Gomez sat up in bed, drinking glasses of red wine. After feeling slightly guilty about objecting to their own son's wedding, and after feeling extremely worried that they weren't successful and putting and end to the union, Gomez had convinced her to drink away her problems. He had told her that if he were going to get drunk and have a good night with no worries, he only wanted the same for her.

So, here they were, drinking away their problems together.

"Gomez," Morticia said as her husband put his arm around her, holding her. "Did you hear what I said to Alison?"

"Yes. You said, you told her she was a senior."

When toasted, they were a few things. Confused, easily humored, blunt and out of character. Infact, the only in character thing they really did was act the same way they did towards eachother when sober.

Morticia laughed. "No, darling, I said that she was..." She counted on her fingers. "Five years, my senior."

Gomez laughed as well. "Ah yes, and didn't you say _age before beauty_ before she left?"

"Yes, darling, I did."

"Do..." Gomez took a deep breath. "Do you regret it?"

"Not at all." Morticia said.

"Tish... I have an idea." Gomez said, planting kisses down her pale neck.

"Ah, what is it, mon cher?" Morticia asked, relishing in his kisses.

"How about we go down to the dungeon?" He asked her and held her tighter. "How long has it been since we've been down there?"

"Oh, Gomez... three whole, agonizing hours."

"Well then, my darling..." Gomez stood up and picked her up, bridal style. "We shall waste no time!" He kissed her and they walked out of their bedroom and down the stairs to their dungeon.

Máma was in the playroom, which was on the other end of the hall from the dungeon. As the playroom was where the family all spent time together, and the children played. And the dungeon was where _nobody_ else in the family went unless they wanted to be emotionally scarred.

She watched them go by and decided it best to leave the playroom. She was thankful the room was on it's own, secluded. But she knew what they were up to and she didn't want to associate. Máma wasn't a fan of romance, or that dungeon. Mostly, because the one in it was her daughter.

The next morning, Gomez and Morticia awoke on the black couch in the dungeon, in eachother's arms, covered by a blanket made of black bear's fur.

Morticia's eyes fluttered open to find her husband staring at her. "Darling, thank you for talking me into drinking away my pain." She said.

"Of course, querida."

Morticia sat up on the little pillow behind her back, designed to look like a bat. "But, unfortunatley, now we have to get back to reality."

"Not if we don't leave this room."

"Mon amour, as magnificently miserable as that sounds, we really _do_ have to go and eat breakfast."

Gomez sighed. "My darling, I think it may be past breakfast."

Morticia nodded. "We really _do_ have to go and eat lunch."

Gomez stood up and put his pants on.

Morticia sat up and was confronted with a migrane. She wasn't sure how much she even drank last night, but it was enough to give her a serious hangover.

"Gomez, I have a headache." She told him.

"Oh, cara mia, can I get you anything?" He asked her.

"No, I'll just have some cyanide water with breakfast." She paused. "But I am a bit sore."

Gomez helped her to her feet and an hour later, they were in the dining room for lunch.

"Mail's in!" Máma shouted as they sat down.

Lurch handed a letter to Morticia. "Mr. and Mrs. Addams." He groaned.

"Thank you, Lurch." Morticia opened the letter. _"Dear mother and father,"_ she began to read. _"I was just on a wonderful Carribean cruise, and I had a great time. Alison and I will be staying home for a while until we can find our own place, I wanted to tell you a week in advance. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience. Signed, Pugsley. P.S. Alison says "hi". Nevermind, no she doesn't. She changed her mind."_

"What the hell kinda letter is that?" Máma asked and dropped a lizard's tail into her cauldron.

"That is _not_ our son."

"Gomez, it _is_ our son. He even wrote out, _signed Pugsley_. Only Pugsley does that."

"C'est étrange." Pubert remarked.

"Oui, ça l'est." Morticia agreed.

"Tish, that French." Gomez kissed her hand.

"Oh, Gomez. Even at times like this, it's wonderful to know you and I will still be the same as always." She smiled.

"Forever, cara mia." He gazed upon her mysterious beauty. "I fall more in love with you every second." He continued to kiss her and got to her neck in a matter of a minute.

Máma, although she never acted phased around comoany, was ready to vomit. She was not one for romance, especially when her daughter was concerned. Morticia tended to forget, it appeared, that Máma was a mother as much as any other mother, and although happy for her daughter, didn't particularly enjoy walking in on her, or seeing all of the PDA.

Pubert on the other hand, was used to it since birth. "Father, I did it right!" He announced.

Gomez looked up from his wife's neck and clapped for his youngest. "Bravo, son! I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks, father. I really-"

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it, Lurch." Morticia said, kindly and got up to go answer the door. She was shocked by what she found.

There was Alison, in her usual attire, and Pugsley. He wore a white suit and white shoes. He looked like a completely different person.

"Hello, Morticia." Alison greeted her.

Morticia nodded. "Alison."

Alison dropped her bags on the floor. "Pugsley, be a dear and take our luggage upstairs to our rooom."

Without a word, Pugsley nodded and took the bags upstairs, as if under a spell.

Now, that he was gone, it was just Morticia and Alison... alone together.

"How old you must feel. What with having a married son and all." Alison remarked.

Morticia smiled, an _I hate you_ smile. "No, quite the contrary. Afterall, his bride is exactly five years, two months, twelve days, nine hours, seven minutes and four seconds older than I am."

Alison was taken aback. "How do you know when I was born?"

"Oh, just an old trick I picked up in college." Morticia relpied.

Alison smiled, sourly. "Mmm... what did you major in, _witchcraft_?"

"Yes." Morticia stated. "I know a lot about you, Alison. And I know you turned the cruise ship right around and got here a week faster."

"Morticia... not to sound rude, but my relationship is new. And your's..." Alison scoffed. "Well, that's a different story. Perhaps, you're jealous?"

It was Morticia's turn to scoff. "Alison, while my husband and I may have been married for twenty two years, we still feel it's been a day. I can assure you, that come heaven or highwater, I could never be jealous of you. I do not desire anything you have, nor will I, ever."

Alison paused, and examined her nails, refusing to look in her eyes. "I must say, I was quite offended after your remark at the wedding."

"Is that a fact?" Morticia asked the rhetorical question.

Alison would have fought back, but Gomez walked into the room, and puffed his cigar.

"Alison." Gomez greeted her, and slipped his hand around his wife's waist, drawing her closer to him.

"Gomez." Alison nodded.

Morticia eyed Alison then, as if to say, _See? I told you._

"Well, I'm going to go upstairs and rest up for a bit. It was so... _nice_ , to see you both." She then walked upstairs, leaving the couple to worry and wait for what, they didn't know.

But they had a feeling it was going to be bad.


	9. Your Eternal and Helpless Slave

Alison got to their bedroom, exhausted. She was worried about looking in the mirror and seeing someone who was aging, and she was pissed at Morticia for being so beautiful, and young. Maybe she was only younger by five years, but it felt like she was younger by fifteen.

"Pugsley. I'm absolutely exhausted." She said and layed on his large bed.

Pugsley dropped everything. "I'm so sorry, darling. Is there anything I can do?" He asked and rushed to her side.

Alison nodded. "Yes," she said in a vulnerable, pouty voice. "Could you do me a few favors?"

"Anything, my darling."

"Are you sure it isn't too much trouble?" She asked.

"Of course, nothing is too much trouble. Infact, nothing is any trouble at all."

"Alright. Could you close the door, and bring me some coffee, cream and two sugar packets. When you get back up, have another blanket with you. I left my makeup bag in the car, and I desperatley need that, and while your at it, would you bring me some hot soup?"

Pugsley nodded. "Of course, anything for you."

"Thank you, dear. Oh, and make sure you have my pills."

Pugsley nodded and closed the door. He forgot he had to leave, though. So he walked out and closed it behind him.

Alison sighed. She was breaking him in, and she just adored being waited on.

Pugsley was frantically making coffee when Morticia walked in. "Pugsley... you look, different."

Pugsley continued making the coffee. "I can't talk, mother. Alison's exhausted and needs some coffee."

Morticia was a tad offended, and very concerned. "Well, I'm sorry I bothered you." She paused. "But, why are you getting it for her? Afterall, you both are probably very tired."

"I'm not as tired as she is. I'm sorry we had to drop in last minute but-"

"Don't appologize, we love you and we'll always be here for you."

"Will you please have Lurch grab Alison's makeup bag out of our car? It's unlocked."

"Of course." Morticia then exited to get Lurch.

Pugsley finished all of his tasks or, _favors_ and walked up the stairs. He hada tray in his hands, a bag on his right shoulder and a blanket around his neck.

Alison didn't bother to get up and help him close the door. "Pugsley, I'm so glad your here."

"Thanks." Pugsley set the tray down on Alison's lap, draped an extra blanket over her and set her makeup bag on the table. He kneeled by the bed next to her. "Is there anything else you need, my dear?"

"Yes. You see, whenever I eat breakfast -but lunch, at this rate- I like a massage to go with it. It jump starts my day. Especially after everything I've been through, I'm exhausted."

"Oh, of course, is that all?" He asked.

"No, before you do anything else, I need you to fluff this pillow." Alison replied.

Pugsley got up and fluffed her pillow. He then lifted the blanket a bit and began to massage her feet. Pugsley had not yet eaten at all. But he didn't care. Well, maybe that was a lie. The truth was, he hadn't been himself and he knew it. It was getting worse by the day, the weird... _sickness_ , he had. Every single time his and Alison's eyes met, he would become powerless, a lovesick puppy dog. She looked into his eyes _all the time_. But weirdest of all, he was seeing violet in her eyes at least twice a day... it was attractive, but frightening.

Lurch then walked into the room. He groaned and shook his head, then walked out. He had to tell Mrs. Addams. Not about what he saw, but rather about what he _didn't_ see. He could care less about the massage, Mr. Addams did that for Mrs. Addams when she was stressed, it was just a sweet gesture, nothing more... at least, nothing more with Pugsley and Alison. No, it was the constant waiting on the woman, it was her open hatred for the family, it was her open hatred for Mrs. Addams. Lurch was worried sick about her, Mrs. Addams was his dearest friend. He and her had become close over these last twenty two years. If something happened to her, he wouldn't forgive himself.

All this, he told her... well, in as little words as possible and a series of complex moans and groans, followed by some nodding and shaking of the head.

Mrs. Addams sat on the couch in her husbands arms. "Really, Lurch? Do you think Alison would really hurt me? I know we aren't on the best of terms. But what reason would she have? She'd lose Pugsley, she'd go to prison -and I hear they've gotten nicer."

Mr. Addams jumped in and held Morticia tighter. "She wouldn't be going anywhere. If anyone ever hurt you, they'd deal with me and that would be the last person they _ever_ dealt with."

Morticia kissed him. "I know, darling. J'taime, mon amour."

"Oh, Tish... must you torture me?" He asked.

"Qui." Morticia replied and let him kiss her neck, and her cheek and her lips. She turned her attention back over to Lurch. "Do you think she'd really do that?"

Lurch groaned and nodded. "If anything happened to you..." He shook his head, and cried a little bit.

Morticia stood, and put her hand on Lurch's arm in an effort to comfort him. "Thank you for telling me, Lurch."

Lurch stopped crying and smiled.

"I think I should have a talk wih Pugsley."

Lurch and Gomez quickly shouted, "No!" in unison.

"Why not?" Morticia asked.

"My darling," Gomez stood up and put his arm around her. "I'm concerned about you, and Pugsley... and the rest of the family. If you talk to him, it might make her want to harm you _more_."

"Well, I don't care about myself, Gomez. I care about Pugsley." Morticia said.

"I know, Tish. I know, but you also care about the rest of the family, and we don't know if it's only you she's after."

"You're right, darling. But... if I _don't_ talk to him, how is that going to make anything better?"

"It won't." Gomez confessed. "Which means there's only one thing to do."

"What?" Morticia asked.

Gomez slipped his arm through her's. "We'll both talk to him."

That night, Morticia and Gomez nearly had to forcibly remove Pugsley from Alison's gaze in order to get him to come into the kitchen and talk. All in their nightclothes, they sat at the table, Pugsley across from his parents.

Morticia was the first to speak. "Pugsley, what happened to you?" She asked. "You used to be so miserable, so macbre, so bleak, so dead... what happened to that boy? Now your happy, and wearing..." Morticia looked down at his nightshirt. She always said she would have as little as possible amount of _that_ color in her house. "You're wearing _yellow_?" She asked, nearly vomiting in her mouth.

Gomez shook his head, disspointed. "Oh God, son... what's happened to you?"

Pugsley didn't know where to start. " _Alison_ happened to me, that's what."

For a moment, he sounded like his old self.

He continued. "I never used to like these colors, or feel this way. But..." He took his parents hands. He whispered, _"Every time I look into her eyes, I change. It's like I'm under some kind of spell. And sometimes, sometimes I see violet in her eyes."_

Morticia soon became rather alarmed. She waited.

"Mother, father, something's very wrong. It's like at night when she doesn't look at me, I'm Pugsley. And in the morning, when she looks at me, I'm Mr. Rogers." Pugsley tried to explain.

Morticia nodded, understanding everything. "Pugsley, go upstairs to bed." She commanded.

"Mother, why-"

"Pugsley, just do it. Just pretend we never talked to you. Not that you really have a choice but, carry out everything as usual. I fear if she finds out you talked to us..." Morticia looked away.

"Mother, I don't understand-"

"Pugsley!" Alison called. "Pugsley, come to bed!"

Morticia sighed and waved a dissmissive hand. And into the darkness, her son went.

"Morticia, what was that?" Gomez asked.

"Gomez... come with me."

She and Gomez walked into their library. They went over to the witchraft section, Máma's and Morticia's books.

Morticia frantically began pulling out book after book and handing them to her husband. "I have to look through these books tonight." She told Gomez.

"Why?" Gomez asked.

Morticia didn't even stop to breath or look at him. "Because Alison is a witch."


	10. Unheard of: Real Title in chapter

**_White Witch, Black Witch, Good Witch, Bad Witch:_**

"But..." Gomez loved Morticia and Máma dearly, but he could never understand how their art worked... as hard as he tried, he couldn't decipher a hex from a book on the latin language. "Tish, so are you. And so is Mãma."

Morticia shook her head. "We're different, Gomez. We practice the craft, and we're mostly witches but... a witch, a real, full-blood witch isn't what a lot of the books say. At least, an evil one isn't."

"Isn't that good?"

"No. I don't mean, white witch, black witch, good witch, bad witch. I mean that witches are complex, Gomez. We don't have much real power of our own, we know we can't do any of this by ourselves. There is some higher power, for us. But the one's with the violet eyes... they're unheard of. I've heard that they're the ones who follow a pattern of chaos. And they repeat that pattern in a cycle. And like any other witch, they can't do it alone. They have four other people with them."

"Why four?"

"How many sides does a pentagram have?" Morticia asked.

Gomez nodded when he gathered it was four plus one in his mind.

"Thise four people remain in constant contact with her. They are always with her, prefereably in person." Morticia realized something, then. "This explains those women at the dress fitting, and the bacholorette party. There were four that would flutter around her contstantly. Margie, Claire, Loralie and... Ashley." She recalled their names, then shook her head, carrying on. "But _their_ higher power, I've heard isn't a what, it's a who. I think Alison might be trying to hurt Pugsley to serve that higher power. And I think she wants his money as well."

"Do you think there's something about her... kind in one of these books."

Morticia blew the dust off of one book to read the title, _Witches: Volume 111, The Sides of a Pentagram_. "Yes, and I think I just found our book."


	11. His Heart and His Body

Pugsley lied in bedroom with Alison. He was growing more concerned about her eyes and his submissive demeanor every day.

"Alison, I'm sorry that everything didn't just fall into place once we married."

Angry, Alison turned her head.

"I know that you want the money, and I'll get it soon. I just have to talk to my parents."

Alison could never tell him the real reason for everything. In order for this operation to work, Pugsley had to be completely in the dark.

"I understand. But you can make it up to me by going out tomorrow and buying a nice new necklace for me."

"Anything. Is that all?" He asked.

Alison chuckled. "There's one more thing."

"Anything, my dearest." Pugsley breathed.

"Pugsley, you can never, ever see your parents or your sister-" she paused. "Or your grandma or brother again after we move. _Ever._ Understand?"

Pugsley shifted his eyes. "What?" Pugsley asked, confused. This was turning into the relationship his Uncle had, and it was turning into it fast.

"Well, your family hates me. Remember?"

"But, they'll get used to you. Alison, I don't know if I-"

Alison began to unbutton his nightshirt. "You promised me you'd make me happy."

"Yes, but-"

She was down halfway. "And that you were devoted."

"I understand that-"

"Do you love me?" She asked.

"Of course, I love you."

All of the buttons were now undone and Alison tore off her lacey nightgown.

Pugsley's eyes grew wide at the sight of her. He looked up at her, into her eyes again. And under the spell, he was. "Yes, yes!" He cried. "I'll do anything for you, I'd die for you, I'd kill for you. I'd-"

 _"Good."_ Alison replied and kissed him, roughly. They took of the remainder of their clothing, and Alison began to do what she did best.

Pugsley's heart was conflicted. As his body moved, as he touched Alison and came into her, as she screamed his name and moved like a watersnake, all he could think about was his family. All he could hear was Bed of Roses, repeating on the maximum volume. He was scared, he was scared because he was entranced every time he looked into her eyes. He was scared because his family loved him, and now his body claimed he loved her more. He was scared because he was trapped. He was trapped between his wife and his family. And his heart and his body were violently clashing with eachother on who he should belong to.


	12. Evil Lives Here

Gomez knew his wife had to be extremely exhausted. She had been looking through the humungous book for five hours. Every hour, on the hour, Gomez would bring her some coffee, if she didn't request any before then -which she usually did- and evey two hours, something to snack on. She was more of a tea person, but she just had to stay awake.

Gomez wished he could be more of a help, but what would he do besides ask his wife what the words meant?

He brought her some lizards tails and her umpteenth cup of coffee, scolding, just the way she liked it. He set the tray down on the table next to her.

"Thank you, Gomez darling." Morticia breifly looked up.

Gomez kissed her cheek. "Tish, I can't think of another mother who would do this." He told her.

"Oh, Gomez." Morticia never blushed, so she looked away breifly and resumed her work.

"I can't think of another mother who _could_ do this." He confessed and kissed her hand. "If you need anything, just ring."

"Darling, you should get some rest. I'm sure Lurch wouldn't mind taking over."

"Cara mia, I will not have you staying up until the crack of dawn, whilst I sleep uncomfortably. That's a terrible thing to do." He paused. "And besides, darling, it's impossible for me to sleep knowing your not with me."

"I know, mon cher." Morticia replied. As Gomez walked out she looked up at him. "I love you." She called to him.

Gomez smiled at her. It was an admirable thing she was doing, of course those things weren't rare for Morticia. "I love you too, querida." He replied and walked out with four empty coffee cups in his hands.

It was now morning, and Gomez would nap every two hours before the bell rang. Morticia practically forced him.

Gomez looked at the clock on the wall, as sometimes his dear wife would be so wrapped up in her work, she'd forget to ring. He noticed it was now six o' clock in the morning. He walked to the library and found his wife, asleep with a book in her hands.

She was on page three thousand seven, and had words circled and highlighted.

Gomez hated to, but he knew he had to wake her up. He gently stroked her cheek. "Darling..." He waited. "Tish, I hate to wake you, but I think you might've found something."

Morticia's eyes fluttered open and she saw Gomez before her. "Oh no, darling. How long was I asleep?"

"Just less than an hour, Tish. Don't worry." He said.

"Oh, why couldn't I just-" she looked down at the book. "Gomez, this is it."

"You found the answer?" He asked, not at all suprised.

"Yes, darling, I did!" Morticia was exhausted but estatic. "Close the door. This is important."

Gomez did so and walked back over to his wife, he sat on the armchair opposite her.

Morticia began to speak. "I was right. From what I gathered, she and three of those those four women are using Pugsley to serve the top of their pentagram. That would be Margie. Margie wants souls. And those women entrust Alison to get them for her. Alison's pattern is much like Debbie's. She hunts for rich men, and kills them off. She gives their souls to Margie and takes the money for herself. Her main character triat is one of the seven deadly sins, _greed_. And her hatred for me..." She paused, unsure about how to say it.

"What about it?"

"Isn't part of the pattern."

"What does that mean?" Gomez asked.

"It could mean one of two things. It could mean she just really, really hates me and was very offended by the whole, _age before beauty_ incident. Or, it could mean that she wants to take over Margie's position. In order to do so, she needs to posses five of the seven deadly sins. She posseses four. Greed, her desire for money. Lust, her desire for sex, and power, and money. Sloth, Pugsley waiting on her left and right, not doing much for herself. And envy, which is where I come into play. She's five years older than I am, but to her it's fifteen. She despises me because of the way I look, and what I have. She's jealous. The fifth she'll soon posses, is wrath."

"But I thought this was a Christian thing, not a witch thing?" Gomez was scared _and_ confused.

"That's something that was made up by the Christain faith to scare their followers. The sins only apply to people like Alison, the true evil. They aren't evil because of the sins, they're evil so they commit the sins, with the intent to hurt. Remember hurt and pain are different things, pain is good, hurt isn't. And their intent, is to hurt or to gain something for themselves Like criminals, only these people are bad."

"Uh-huh." Gomez nodded.

"Wrath is what she'll do to me. Because she's envious, and because she hates me, she'll have no trouble in... destorying me and/or everything I love."

Gomez's eyes grew ten times their size. "Oh, God. Tish... no, I will _not_ let this happen. We're throwing her out of the house, _now_."

"Gomez,-" She paused, unsure of what to say. She didn't know how.

Pugsley had been listening at the door. He knew what he had to do. He could think clearly when Alison wasn't looking at him. So, he walked over to Alison, whom was drinking her morning coffee in the living room, and he shifted his eyes.

"Pugsley, how did you sleep?"

"Get out." Pugsley commanded.

Alison was taken aback. "What?"

Meanwhile, the family heard a scream and ran into the living room. And that's when they all saw it... they all saw Alison's vibrant, violet eyes.

"What the hell do you mean, _get out_?" Alison asked. "This is my house, too. How dare you?"

"Alison, I'm sorry. But you're leaving. I know the truth about you. I won't let you hurt my family, and I'll be damned if I let you hurt my mother."

"Pugsley, look at me."

He wouldn't.

Alison was infuriated and stormed over to Morticia. _"You!"_ She yelled.

"Alison-"

"What the hell did you do to him! You horrid, ungreatful little _bitch_!"

"Alison, nobody-" Gomez was cut off.

Morticia maintained her composure. "Ungreatful? What do I have to be greatful to you for?"

"For taking that _thing_ your hands!" She yelled, referring to Pugsley.

Morticia was now very upset. "What?" She asked.

"What do you mean? You heard me."

"I don't care what you are, or what you think you can do. I don't care about you at all. But I _do_ care about my son. He is not a thing, he is a loving, wondeful human being. And I swear on my grave, I will defend his name until I die." Morticia said.

"What are you saying?" Alison asked.

"I'm saying that he is a better person than you will _ever_ be. And you, Alison, need to get the hell out of my house."

Máma was in awe, never had her little girl sounded so much like her.

"Make me."

Gomez smiled. "Of course." He looked over to his mother-in-law. "Máma, would you please?"

"Yes, of course, Gomez." Máma rang for Lurch and gestured to Alison.

"Oh, you think that big oaf is going to scare me?" Alison asked.

"Maybe not, but he will get you out of our house." Pubert said, matter-of-factly.

"Shut up, you little brat!" Alison screamed.

Enraged, Lurch picked her up. "No one insults, my family."

"It speaks." Alison, now a tad afraid, commented.

Thing then opened the door for Lurch and he quite litterally threw Alison out.

When everything cooled down, everybody stared at eachother.

"Should I get on with the divorce proceedings?" Pugsley asked.

"No." Morticia shook her head.

"Why?" Pugsley was confused.

"Because this isn't over. Alison wants to take over the top spot on the pentagram, she will be back, and she'll be back soon. We need to prepare for a battle." Morticia told him.

Máma ran to her daughter. "Morticia, are you saying that Alison's-"

"Yes, Máma. She's a _violet witch_."

"I thought those were myths." Máma was in awe.

"I stayed up for hours last night trying to figure out what she was."

"So _that's_ why you look like hell." Máma commented.

"Father, what are they talking about?" Pugsley asked.

"Son..." Gomez sighed. "Your mother can explain."


	13. Hyacinthum Pythonissam

Morticia did indeed explain. She explained _everything_ to her son.

The Addams family then began to prepare for battle.

They called Uncle Fester and Dimentia. Then, Wednesday and Joel ten hours ago. They arrived three hours earlier. Now, it was two minutes to midnight.

Morticia, Wednesday and Máma concocted spells and potions left and right. Gomez, Fester and Pugsley did all the reading up they could comprehend on the vemenous _violet witch_ and built traps and salt circles all around the house. Pubert, Dimentia and Joel set the traps up. Lurch and Thing kept watch.

Morticia was looking for one last ingridient to drop into the cauldron. "Quick, Wednesday, hand me that lizard's tail." She held out a hand.

Wednesday couldn't find it anywhere. "Mother, I don't know where it is."

"Máma?" Morticia tried.

Máma shook her head. "I don't know where-"

Pubert burst through the door and threw the tail into the pot. "It's midnight." He said.

Morticia poured the bubbling, scarlet-colored contents of the cauldron into a vile, and shoved it in her dress.

Máma and Wednesday were a bit confused, but said nothing.

"I know." Morticia said, calmly.

"And?" Wednesday asked the youngest Addams member.

Pubert looked about Máma's _Spells, Hexes and Potions_ room. "Somebody's here." He told them.

All of the Addamses got into their places and heard a huge, _bang!_ Someone, or multiple people, had bust through their door. Lurch shook his head, he had _just_ fixed it.

 _"Miss me?"_ Alison's voice rang throughout the large Addams estate. She looked so different now. Her skin was less tan, and had a few more wrinkles. Her eyes were pure violet. Her hair was big, jet black and wavy with violet streaks. It was pinned up. She wore a purple, flowing, lacey and low cut high-low dress with black high heeled ankle boots and fishnet tights. _"Don't be shy... come out and talk to me."_

She walked about the house, careful to avoid the traps she knew they had placed. "I know where your traps are."

Lurch was standing near the stairs, a remote in hand, ready to trap her as she was standing directly over a small, black _x_. He pressed the button but she jumped away and raised a hand. Immediatley, he passed out.

Alison continued walking until she had pinpointed and mentally diabled seemingly every trap in the house. She then walked down into the Addams' dungeon. It was pitch black, so she stepped further into the darkness. "Anybody in here?" She called out, unafraid.

"Yes." A voice said.

Alison tried to move closer but was detained. She realized she couldn't move her arms nor her legs at all. "A detainment spell." She remarked. "Very clever."

"I know." The voice replied.

The clapping of hands could be heard and there was a small amount of light in the room, shining upon Alison's general vascinity.

A figure then stepped into the light. "But it won't hold you for long."

Alison looked up to see that the figure was Morticia. "You're right."

"I am." Morticia responded. "But luckily, you're going to stay right here for now. Giving us just enough time to find your other..." Morticia looked her up and down. "Friends."

"Excuse me?" Alison asked.

"We all know what you are. A _violet witch_."

Alison scoffed. "The proper term is _Hyacinthum Pythonissam_."

"You and your kind are a complete disgrace to true witches everywhere." Morticia's words were venom, but she spoke with elegance.

"No. I'd say we're better. You call yourself a witch? You don't even _sin_. You barely even practice and where is your coven?"

"I don't need one. And none of those things make you a witch. And everyone sins, but those are minor. Your's are detrimental." Morticia paused. "I like that in a person." She chuckled. "It's a shame you turned out to be so horrible."

Alison rolled her eyes.

"Are you truly fourty five?" She asked.

"I'm four hundred." Alison replied.

"I see."

Alison smiled sourly. "Do you really believe we came here to fight you wills spells and potions?"

"I do."

"Oh, honey." Alison laughed. "No. See, I've learned from a woman that, I intend to destroy soon that it's much more pleasurble hurting your enemies through their greatest fears. So, once Margie and the girls have brought your family down here... the real fun can begin."

"I thought you served under Margie. Why are she and the others doing _your bidding_?"

"Because, _they serve under me for now. And they soon will for good."_ Alison told her.

"How?"

"I already commited the sins I needed to."

"Wrath?" Morticia asked, confused at how she could've possibly gotten Alison's hatred for her wrong.

"Yes. Dear, I've already broken your son. I _am_ destorying you by using your's and your loved ones worst fears, and thereby destorying them. To get them to be submissive forever, I need to finish the job. I may have broken your son, but I need to break you... to break you all."

Gomez and the rest of the family -apart from Lurch- searched about the house for Alison's coven. They had their weapons in hand, and decided to split off.

Gomez walked upstairs into an abandoned guest room. A room he hadn't been in, in about sixteen years. It was his deceased parent's bedroom.

It was beautiful. Rather dusty and old-looking, yes. But it had that same darkness about it Gomez always remembered. The curtains were ripping now. He recalled fondly of the day he and his brother ripped those curtains. It was Gomez's seventh birthday, and he was teaching his elder brother to sword fight... in their parents' bedroom. After the crutains had been ripped, Rosemary and Keneth Addams shared a look of pure, miserable happiness. The same look he and his wife shared when looking at their children.

But Gomez was immideatley broken from his reminisence, by the large window shattering.


	14. The Witches

Máma, Dimentia, Pubert and Joel heard the window shatter. They ran toward the stairs, ready to rush to the family members on the upper level. However, a huge wall of fire blocked them.

Prepared, Máma pulled a vile from her shoe and threw it at the flames. It did nothing. _"Damn it!"_ She yelled, angered.

"What was it?" Joel asked.

"What do you think it was, genious? It was water!" Máma snapped.

"Oh." Joel then reached into his coat pocket in an attempt to find anything that might help, but he couldn't. "Wednesday!" He yelled up the stairs, worried about her. "Gomez, Fester, anyone!"

Dimentia put a hand on his shoulder. "They probably can't hear you, Joel."

"Well, we have to _try_!" Joel shrugged her hand off and stepped closer to the flames.

Máma yanked him back. "You can't save _anyone_ if you burn to death, now can you?" She asked and smacked him in the head, out of love. It was Máma's... way.

"Oww!" Joel put a hand to his head.

Meanwhile, Gomez had his salt and sword at the ready. He looked to see that two women, one with black hair and one with blonde hair.

The blonde one, whom looked to be thirty, wore a slutty, devil red high low dress and black fishnet tights, with platform heels to match the dress. Her nails were long and red. Her makeup was black and red, to match her ensemble. She had a beauty mark just above her upper lip.

The black haired one had on a punk-gothic black dress with rips and holes galore, covered by fishnet. She wore black lace tights and leather heeled boots. Everything about her was black accept her skin and eyes.

They were from Alison's bachelorette party. Ashley was the one with the black hair, Claire was the blonde. And their eyes were just like Alison's... violet.

"Stay back!" Gomez warned.

"Make us." Claire took a step closer. She seemed to be very flirtacious. She walked up to him but he held a sword to her. "I like a man who plays rough." She laughed and licked her lips, sensually.

Ashley slapped her across the face. "That _isn't_ what we're here for. Of course, I would know more than you. Grab him, I'll grab the others."

She turned but Gomez whipped out the salt and threw it at her.

Ashley screamed in agony fell to the floor.

Gomez continued to pour salt about the room, it was tearing the flesh of Ashley and burning Alison.

Ashley held up her hand and Gomez passed out.

Ashley stood, and Claire began to unbutton his shirt.

"God, he is _so_ hot." Claire looked up at Alison, with pleading eyes. "When this is all over, can I have my way with him?"

"Is sex _all_ you think about?" Ashley asked.

Claire ran her fingers through his hair and nodded. "Yes."

"This is why _I_ deserve to be the ring leader here, the rest of you are clowns." Ashley commented. "Take him to the dungeon and lock up the wife as well. I'm going to get the other two."

"Where are Margie and Loralie?"

"You're the stupid one, you don't get to ask the questions."

"You're sexy when your mad." Claire snapped her teeth.

"I'm too good for you. For your information, they're downstairs." Ashley paused. _"Now, do what I told you, damn it or Alison will have both our heads!"_

Claire nodded reluctantly and looked at Gomez sadly, as she wanted him -and everyone else in the free world- terribly. Even more than she wanted the others before him. But alas, she could not have him. Not yet, anyway.

Meanwhile, Margie sat on the couch and put her feet up on the coffee table. Margie looked even older than Alison, and had brown hair, the same violet eyes as the others, and wore a gray and black rags and black _Mary Janes_ with gray and black stripped tights. She was not very large, but not as skinny as the others. "Loralie! What are you _doing_? Quit screwing around in there!"

Loralie _humphed_. " _No wonder_ you're so fat, all you do is sit on you ass now that you aren't number one anymore!" Loralie was the prettiest out of the five. She had flowing, strawberry blonde hair, wore a very dark lilac, long, flowing, off-shoulder dress which was extremely low cut and black high heels with ankle straps. She wore a black, lace chocker, and long, black, lace fingerless gloves. Her skin was as clear as day, and she was absolutely radiant. Her hair was half up, and her nails were long and painted to match her choker and gloves.

"Excuse me?" Margie growled.

"You heard me! You're just jealous 'cause I've always been prettier than ya!" Loralie had the accent of a southern belle.

Margie yelled once more. "Quit whining and grab them!"

"I already did, no help from you!" Loralie called to her.

"What's the hold up then? Alison's waiting!"

"Hold your hourses, I'm comin'!"

In reality, Loralie was nowhere near finished. Máma wasn't even unconcious yet.

"You're a tough nut ta crack, lady!" Loralie took a huge breath, tired out. Her breasts heaved as she did. She tried again and raised her hand. _"Down."_

Máma laughed. "You don't have it in you. Give me back my family."

Joel, Dimentia and Pubert were all in midair, unconcious. They were waiting to be transported to the dungeon.

"Not a chance." She brought Pubert, whom was -even though only a child- now the closest family member to Máma besides her own daughter. Loralie then pressed a large butcher knife to his throat, he still did not awaken. "Alright, ya don't give up, he dies."

Máma thought for a moment. She was all out of tricks. She didn't know what more to say or do. She knew her family wasn't going to let them win, but they were going to have to let them start.

"Okay." Máma lie down and just as Loralie put Pubert back into the air, she threw a large portion of salt at her.

Loralie screamed in pain and doubled over. Hearing her cries, Ashley ran to her. "Damn it, do I have to do _everything_?" She yelled and held up a hand. Máma instantly fell unconcious.

Loralie stood fully. "It only doesn't work for me 'cause ma looks always blind people."

"She's a person."

"You don't know that!" Loralie then put Máma up into the air and the witches began to walk to the dungeon.

Morticia did not take her eyes off of Alison, for fear if she did, something terrible would happen.

But Claire walked into the dungeon. There, she set Gomez, right next to his wife.

Morticia gasped and fell to the floor, immdiatley putting a hand to his neck and arms, praying he still had a pulse. She felt a small amount of relief when he did.

Morticia was in a panic. "What the hell have you done to him?"

"The same thing I'm about to do to you."

"What?" Morticia asked.

"You'll see... but not for long."

Just then, all of the other witches and family members came downstairs and were thrown against the wall.

The witches stared intently at Alison and the detainment spell was broken. Alison held up a hand and a still very much unconcious Gomez rose, unwillingly.

"Morticia, against the wall. _Now_ , or I snap his neck."

Morticia backed against the wall, no questions asked, and Gomez was set next to her. They needed him alive and well for now. Morticia held him close to her.

The family awoke and were held against the wall by force.

Gomez and Morticia instinctively grabbed eachother's hands.

"Are you alright, mon cher?" Morticia asked, quietly.

Gomez used his free hand and stroked her cheek. "I'm fine, but my only concern is you, mi amore."

They went in for one of their usual, intensley passionate kisses.

Alison looked ready to vomit at their display of affection. _"Knock it off."_

Gomez and Morticia slowly turned to stare at her and gave her a death glare. They then tunred to eachother and kissed quickly before Alison could stop it.

They thought nothing of it, but to Alison, they were giving the middle finger to her authority.

"What did I say?" Alison walked back and forth, slowly, observing her enemies. "Now, here's what's going to happen. We're going to fight. And we're going to fight hard. And _we_..." Alison gestured to herself and the witches, standing in a diamond shape behind her. "Are going to win."

"I'll never let you win." Pugsley growled and avoided Alison's eyes at all cost.

"Pugsley, look at me." Alison's command sounded more like a sweet plea.

"Never again." He responded.

"I understand. But I hope you understand that I'm going to do away with one person you care about, every time any one of you tries to dissobey or disrespect me. Let's try it, hmm? Think of it like a twisted little game."

Wednesday had no doubt Alison was bluffing. She needed them. "Stop it."

"Oh, yes..." Alison gripped the girl's chin and looked into her eyes. "I remember you, Wednesday. I can't do anything you right now. I need you to live the nightmare I have cooked up for you." She looked over at Joel. "But... I have no extreme desire to hurt this fellow. Just..." She turned to Wednesday. "You."

"Leave Joel out of this."

"No, I don't think I will." Alison said. She looked into his eyes and Joel looked like a totally different person. He seemed to be in some sort of a trance.

"Hey, Joel... do me a favor?" Alison asked, sweetly.

"Anything." He had no idea what he was saying.

"Go home, dear. Get on a flight to LA and forget about everything having to do with this girl, or this family. Picture my eyes looking into yours all of the time. I have some business to take care of."

Joel nodded and walked upstairs and out of sight, not hearing a tearful and screaming Wednesday calling his name.

"Anyway, where were we?" Alison, completely cold-blooded and heartlessly unphased, asked, rhetorically. "Ah, yes. You've all done me wrong, and now I'm going to destory you, using your most powerful weapons."

"What?" Pugsley asked, crying and holding his shattered sister.

"Please. Leave us alone." Dimentia pleaded. She looked like a monster, but she was a gentle soul, wouldn't hurt a fly.

"Oh. It seems I have no real attatchment to you either." Alison remarked. "Alright, I have no use for you." With a wave of her hand, Dimentia turned into a crow and Loralie held her in her her arms.

"Loralie?"

"Yea, Alison?" Loralie asked.

"If anyone here makes another _peep_ -" she laughed at her own pun for a minute. "Kill the bird."

Fester wanted to scream, _No!_ but all he could do was let a few silent tears fall.

"Don't cry, we haven't even gotten to the mindfucks yet." Alison laughed.

As she laughed, the witches held their hands up and one by one, the family members fell asleep. Three remained now, Gomez, Morticia and Puglsey.

Claire was about to hold up her hand but stopped. "Before you get... destoryed an all, you should know that I want you almost as much as I want your husband." She said to Morticia

 _"Claire!"_ Alison snapped. "Just do what you have to do and that's it. Got that?"

"Yes, mistress." Claire nodded and held up a hand.

Morticia's world began to spin, before she even had time to react, everything faded to black. Gomez passed out along with her.

Alison held up her hand and Pugsley began to shut his eyes.

"Why are you doing this?" Pugsley breathed, as he was drifting off.

"Because, Pugsley..." Alison smiled, wickedly. "In this story, we're the witches."


	15. The Shattered Sister

_It was foggy. She couldn't remember much of what had just happened, not right now anyways. She felt like her arm was broken. The fog was thick... oh God, it was so thick. She didn't know where she was, but she felt as though she had fallen. Fallen out of the sky into God knows where. She couldn't see, she **wouldn't** see. She refused to open her eyes..._

 _Wednesday lie there on the ground for a few moments, attempting in vain to comprehend the situation. The last thing she recalled was Pugsley marrying Alison. That was it._

 _She lied there for what felt like an eternity until she got her barrings. When Wednesday finally understood what was going on, she rose. She decided that she must've blacked out after running to the lake again, as she so often did. She looked down at her dress. Stapless, flowing, silk. Torn, white. She wore no shoes. Her toenails remained black, her makeup, well there was none._

 _She sat by the water and put her toes in. She cried silently. She had no control anymore! After Pugsley had moved to Hawaii with Alison, Joel and her began to argue like it was there job. Joel kept saying she was the reason Pugsley left with Alison. But that wasn't true... was it? She was planning to make up with him, but when she got home from her job as a secretary at the funeral parlor, she found a note on the table. Dear Wednesday, she remembered it reading. I need to move on. It's in my best interest that I move back home to start a new life, and that I forget all about you. I'm sorry it's come to this. -Joel_

 _Oh how she had cried! That was the week she graduated early and moved back home. But now, things were different. Now, she was alone. She remembered how her life had crumbled:_

 _"Wednesday!" Pubert called from Morticia and Gomez's bedroom. "Wednesday, come quick!"_

 _Wednesday got up and ran into the house, crows flying overhead, away from the coming storm. It began to thunder as Wednesday ran faster, into the house._

 _"Pubert, what is it?" Wednesday cupped the crying boy's cheeks._

 _"Wednesday... it's mother."_

 _"Oh my God." Wednesday didn't have the courage, nor the strength to meet the child's gaze, to meet anyone's gaze. "Is she...?"_

 _Pubert sobbed. "It's even worse than that!"_

 _"Pubert, how could it be worse than that?"_

 _For months, the Addams' had known it was coming. Gomez took it hardest of all. Morticia had fallen ill, she had three months at most. Each day she got weaker and weaker, sicker and sicker... she looked as though she were fading away. She was a mere whisp of what she once was. Today marked the third month, and Wednesday tried to get everyone to remember. She tried to get them to remember that her mother was sick and not dead yet. But everyone acted like she was dead accept she, Gomez and Pubert._

 _Wednesday awaited a response._

 _"It's father... right before mother, died... he... he told me to leave the room."_

 _Wednesday raced upstairs, refusing Pubert's plea to come with her. What she saw, made her the scared, mousy little girl in white, sitting by the lake she was today._

 _There was her father... or rather his corpse, holding her mother's hand. Everything from his clothes to the sheets were bloodsoaked. He had slit his wrists, and tried to do the same with his throat. And he was dead._

 _That was it. Wednesday had nobody anymore. She thought she would have had her grandmother, or her uncle, or anyone else. But they all acted like she didn't exist. She had no conrtol over anything anymore!_

 _After the deaths, the entire family erupted in fight after fight over the inheritance. She screamed and kicked the water she dipped her toes in just thinking about it. She started wearing white, playing with puppies, and talking to herself, and writing on the walls... she lost her mind. She had no control over anything, but she did have self control. And now, now_ _ **that, too** was gone._

 _"Dimentia, I told you I wanted Morticia's vanity! She was **my** daughter!" She heard her grandmother scream._

 _"And what about me?" Magraget yelled. "_ _ **I** want her hairbrush! She was **my** best friend!"_

 _She was **my** best friend! Wednesday wanted to scream, but she no longer had the ability to produce noises of such power and volume._

 _"I want Gomez's swords!" Fester yelled._

 _"No!" Eveyone contradicted._

 _Wednesday cried harder and now loudly. In the sand, she wrote S.O.S. but that was five days ago. Noone had come. She looked at her toes. The black nail polish, the only thing she had control over anymore, was completely gone._

 _Soon, now, she would be. Well, she wasn't going to let anyone take her away. Wasn't going to let any **thing** take her away._

 _She kept hearing the voice of someone, who sounded so familiar. Sounded almost like that woman who married her brother. It couldn't be. Alison wouldn't hurt a fly._

 _"You did this." The voice taunted her as she sat on the shore. "You **deserve this**." _

_Wednesday let the voice ring in her ears, unable to stand up to it. She then took a peace of glass she found. And she attempted to make the first cut._

 _She wondered how she had gone from the gothic, independent, strong Wednesday Addams... to the shattered sister._


	16. The Broken Boy

_Pugsley watched the dastardly sun shine through the window. They had had nineteen straight weeks of the scroching heat and terrifying yellow star shining in the galaxy._

 _He fixed Alison's coffee just the way she liked it. He had to do it. He had nobody else._

 _They had lost the battle. Alison had showed no mercy. She forced him to watch his parents burn alive. His uncle had to give into Claire's devilish demands before she killed him, Wednesday bled out, and the rest of his family dissapeared into thin air, as if they had never existed at all. But the worst of it all, was that Pugsley didn't remember any of it._

 _He ran upstairs to "her majesty's" bedroom and handed her her coffee. He went through her usual morning ritual and she eyed him feircly. There was something about those eyes, he... just couldn't put his finger on it._

 _"Are you going to attend your coven meeting today, darling? Or will the baby let you?" He asked._

 _Alison put a hand to her stomach and looked in the mirror. Her twenty year old skin was perfectly sun kissed, and her blonde hair flowed out of her head, in a glorious, curly fashion. "I don't know, Pugsley. Go downstairs and tell Margie to get off her ass and do some work. Oh yes, and tell the other girls to clean better. I wanna see myself in the floor."_

 _Pugsley nodded and nearly walked out._

"Wait." Alison laughed as she walked around Pugsley's still body. "Claire, what should I say next?"

Claire smiled. "Mmm... I have it."

"Why are you asking _her_?" Ashley asked. "I'm smarter."

"Shut up." Alison commanded.

"I resent the part about me getting off my ass!" Margie whined.

"Embrace the sin, Margie."

"Embrace my-" Margie stopped when Alison shot her a _don't screw with me_ look.

 _"Pleasure me first."_

 _Pugsley ran his fingers through her hair. "Of course, anything for you. Then would you like me to reprimand the girls?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _The day went on as it awlays did, but Pugsley kept hearing a voice, a demonic sounding voice in the back of his head. He pushed it out of his thoughts._

 _But Alison tool him down to the dungeon in their eleven story, Hawaian mansion/beachouse and slipped on her black robe._

 _"Pugsley, we need you today." Claire said._

 _"Need me? For what?" Pugsley asked._

 _Claire held up a ball of fire in her hands. "We need to test a few spells on you. The first one, is pain."_

 _Next thing Pugsley knew, he was being tortured. Clair was burning him while Ashley and Margie held him down. Loralie wouldn't stop staring at him and making fun of him and Alison had the nerve to just sit there and watch._

 _He prayed that it would end, that this would all just be a dream, he tried to tell himself that he loved his new life... he paused. Why the hell was Alison doing this to him? Who **was** she to do this to him?_

"Something's wrong!" Alison screamed.

"What?" Loralie asked.

"It's Pugsley, he's seizing! That isn't supposed to happen! If he wakes up, it's all over, everything I,ve worked for is over!" She screamed.

"Is he breaking?" Claire asked.

"Breaking, no, you imbusle! He isn't a damn robot!"

"Was it the fire?" Loralie questioned. "In the nightmare you-"

"I know what I did!" Alison snapped.

"Say something, stop whatever your doing!" Ashley commanded.

"Don't tell me what to do! I-"

Just then, Pugsley went limp again.

 _Pugsley found himself in his bedroom, in the attic. He was no longer angry. He was confused. But for some reason he remembered watching Alison murder his family. He remembered the pain, the pain was unbearable! Then, he forgot again and was about to go back to his day as usual. But he collapsed, in rememberance._

 _He didn't know what was happening. Ten minutes ago he was fine. Ten minutes ago he was a new man. So why, why **now** had he become the broken boy?_

 _He ran to the ocean, and threw himself on the ground. In the distance, he saw Alison running afger him but he no longer cared. He wrote S.O.S. in the sand and rolled into the ocean. He wanted to die, he wanted to wake up. He heard if in a lucid dream, you killed yourself, you would awaken. He tried with all his might to drown but it was no use. He popped his head back up and swam further out to sea. But something stopped him. _

_He swam back to shore to find Alison, crying. And forgetting everything, he swam back. Something didn't feel right, not at all. But he couldn't help it when she looked at him with those violet eyes._


	17. The Cheery Child

_Rain fell upon the mahogany coffin, that was about to be burried six feet under the ground for all eternity._

 _He stood there in his black suit, the one she had made for him. He watched his parents sobbing in the corner with his brother and sister. And he wept for his grandmother._

 _Pubert screamed and cried harder than everyone at the funeral combined. He had nobody anymore. Who was going to teach him how to be a member of the prestigious low-down, scum of the earth now? His parents? He loved them, but they couldn't do what Máma could do if they tried._

 _He tried to remember how it got to this point. But the last thing he remembered was Pugsley marrying Alison. That was it._

 _The clouds seemed to show pictures of Máma and spellbooks, and dispair. In reality though, they were just white balls of fluff. And Pubert hated them for it._

 _No more helping Máma with Thankgiving and Christmas roast aligator, no more Halloween bat stew. No more lizard tooth salad or newt eye sandwiches. No more grandmother._

 _Pubert sobbed, deeply wounded. He was frightened. Frigtened that now, he would turn out like his friend, Jeremy. His father was a pastor and wore white suits all the time. They had a french poodle named Fifi._

 _Unfortunatley, that's exactly what he became._

 _Try as his parents might, not to let him turn out like Jeremy's father, they failed miserably._

 _Pubert chuckled, as if he didn't, he would cry as he continued his sermin. "Hallelujah!" He cried as the people in the pews clapped. "What did the lord say? He said, **let there be LIGHT!** " _

_Everybody clapped and stood, ready to sing the final worship song of the day. After church, Paster Pubert walked outside to greet his family._

 _"Mary-Alice, would you please drop Peter off at baseball and Gracey off at dance? I have to stay after church."_

 _The tall, petite, figurless, blonde woman rolled her eyes. She wore a classy, short blue dress and white flats. Her hair was in a bun and she wore pearls. She was the opidomy of the perfect, blonde, Christian woman._

 _"Yes, of course, darling. But, this is, the fifth day in a row that you've asked me to do this. Not that I won't anymore, it's just... I coudl really use some help, honey."_

 _Pubert sighed and kissed his wife on the cheek, passionlessly, as usual. "I love you." He had lied for twenty years, he was now starting to believe it was true._

 _"I love you too." That wasn't true either, she had been embezwæing the church's money for years, and Pubert knew it. But what was he supposed to do? He was lifeless now._

 _He then bid goodbye to his children, took a swig of alcohol, and_ _walked to the lake in tears. Everyone thought him so full of joy, so happy, a bright, caring, upstanding citzen. It made him sick to his stomach. How was it that now he was known as the cheery child in the family?_

 _He took his shoes off and his feet in the water, caring not about getting his old white suit dirty._

 _Then, weeping because he missed what he couldn't have, he wrote S.O.S.  in the sand. _


	18. Abuse of Power

_Máma awoke on her bed. But with horror, she realized it was infact her bed from a half a century ago._ _It was her fifteen year old bed. Rather, it wasn't her present bed. It was her fifteen year old bed, she realized with horror. The last thing she really remembered was Alison marrying Pugsley. Now, she was fifteen again. She looked in her mirror. Yes. It had been fifty years sinse she stepped infront of this old, cracked mirror... her mother's old mirror._

 _She shrugged and continued to stare. She hand't seen that reflection since Morticia was fourteen. The girl she was, had slightly pale, white skin. Her hair was red... the color of Rose's hair from The Titanic. and smooth with curls at the bottom. Her nails were long and painted black. Her toenails matched. The blue eyes staring at her frightened her. Oh God, those blue eyes looked just like her mother's. Maybe that's why she wore brown contacts until Ophelia was born. Esmeralda wore a blood red, strapless, silk gown that extended down past her ankles and brown high heels to go with it. Her blood red lipstick and her eye makeup matched. How mature she looked._

 _Now afraid, she understood why she was dressed this way. Today was her fifteenth birthday. Today was the day her mother died._

 _She tried to escape. How she tried. Every window was bolted shut, her door was locked from the outside. She was trapped._

 _"Esmeralda!" Her drunken father called. "Where are you, you miserable little witch?"_

 _Esmeralda hid in her closet amidst her skirts and dresses, which resembled some sort of a slightly gothic gypsy._

 _She heard her mother scream in fear and could almost feel her father tighten his grip._

 _"Let her be, Chester! For God's sake, let her be!" She heard her mother scream._

 _Why? Oh why couldn't her mother just be quiet?_

 _Chester reached his youngest daughter's room. He knocked on the closet door. "Alright, bitch. I'm going to count to three. And if you aren't out here on three, I'm going to kill her."_

 _Esmeralda stayed, breathing heavily._

 _"One..."_

 _"Stay in the closet, baby! Please stay in the-"_

 _Her mother's muffled screams could be heard as Chester covered her mouth. "Shut the hell up, Victoria! I'm talking!"_

 _"Two..."_

 _Esmeralda couldn't bear it. She burst out of the closet to confront her father. "Father, stop! Let her go!" She screamed._

 _"No. You wanna know the real reason your sister died?"_

 _Victoria shook her head, violently and his hand slipped over her mouth. "Don't listen to him, Esmeralda! Please, he's wasted, he doesn't know-"_

 _Chester's hand covered her mouth again._

 _"If I say yes, will you release my mother?" Esmeralda asked._

 _"Oh you bet." Chester growled._

 _"Okay, how did she die?"_

 _Victoria attempted to scream over and over again but her cries were muffled._

 _"She died because of you."_

 _Esmeralda fought back tears, as her broken mother was already crying. "You're lying."_

 _Chester shook his head. "No. Your mother... wanted to raise you like a witch. She began to. So, as her punishment I threw some old rules back at her. When you have a new baby, one of the other children has to die."_

 _"The baby was me." Esmeralda commented._

 _"Oh yes. And Alice, died. My dear first born child DIED because we gave birth to you."_

 _"You killed her because of me?" Esmeralda asked._

 _"You think I enjoyed it? You disgust me! I wish on everything you had never been born."_

 _Esmeralda was in tears now. "Fine. Now let her go, you bastard!"_

 _Enraged, Chester let go of Victoria and slapped Esmeralda across the face._

 _"Stop!" Victoria cried._

 _Chester punched his daughter, tore her dress, scratched her and knocked her to the ground._

 _As he was kickong her, Victoria jumped on top of him. "Get away from her! Leave my daughter alone!" She screamed._

 _"She's my daughter too."_

 _Esmeralda was motionless, bleeding on the ground._

 _"She may be your daughter, but damn it, Chester, you are NO father!" Victoria wrestled him to the ground and began to punch him._

 _Chester got back up, and got on top of Victoria._

 _"When was the last time I loved you?" He asked._

 _"You never loved me." Victoria turned her head._

 _Chester wripped off Victoria's necklace and began to tear off her dress._

 _Esmeralda held a knife to his throat, although weary. "Run, mother!" She tried to yell._

 _But, Chester took the knife from her and without hesitation, stabbed the only person Esmeralda ever loved._

 _Chester laughed and walked out, and Esmeralda rushed over to her mother and pulled her red hair out of her face. God, her mother was so beautiful... she looked just like her. "Mother?" Esmeralda peeped. She then pulled up her mother's dress, as her mother hated shwoing cleavage._

 _"Darling..." Victoria grabbed her daughter's hand. "I love you. I'll..." She coughed up blood._

 _Esmeralda took a handkercheif off her dresser and whiped her mouth._

 _"I'll always love you. Run. Get out of her today."_

 _Esmeralda burst into even more tears. "Where will I go?"_

 _"I don't... I don't know. Your father is a sick man. He killed your sister, not because of you. Or me. It took me a long time to forgive myself."_

 _"For what?" Esmeralda's tears fell on her mother's bleeding heart._

 _"Exactly." Victoria chuckled. "I'll be watching you, Esmeralda. I'll awlays be watching."_

 _"How will I ever be able to look at myself again?" Esmeralda asked._

 _"You just will." Victoria took her third to last breath. "Remember..." She took another breath. "Everything I've taught you." Then, she took her last._

 _"Help..." Esmeralda felt herself passing out. "Help..."_

 _She woke up. She woke up to find herself in the same room. She walked over to the mirror. She then relaized that it was the same day as yesterday. That she could run from this day but she couldn't hide. She was trapped in a nightmare of the worst day fo her life, the defining day of her life._

 _The day repeated and repeated and repeated. Esmeralda ran out of the house, finally and ran to the lake. She found a patch of dirt and took a twig, which looked like it had seen better days, and wrote out an S.O.S. in the sand. Only she had a feeling, nobody was coming to her rescue._


	19. Gone Guy

_Fester woke up in his and Dimentia's marital bed. Quickly he realized she was gone. He was all alone. At first, all he remembered was that Pugsley had married Alison. Then, soon, it all hit him like a ton of bricks. Dimentia had gotten into a fight with him, and had left him for his estranged cousin, Robert._

 _Fester was heartbroken. Every day, he sulked and called and there was no answer. Little by little, he got fatter, his health declined, and he became a recluse._

 _His worst fear, being alone and forgotten, was realized. Nobody called pr remembered him, he gave up his fortune to his brother, sold his house and lived in an RV._

 _After thirty years, he became a legend, a myth._

 _An S.O.S. in the sand by the beach, he and Dimentia used to walk was written one_ _day. But nobody really knew, if it was written by the mythical Fester Addams._


	20. The Pair of Lethal Lovers

_Gomez awoke in the mansion. However, he could not find his beloved. He searched for what felt like days but he couldn't find her. The rest of the family seemed to have dissapeared as well. He never gave up hope. He searched and searched._

 _He tried to recall just what had happened. What led up to this? He wondered. He remembered that Pugsley had married and moved, but that something happened afterwards... and he didn't know what it was._

 _He searched the graveyard once more. "Morticia!" He called. "Carita!"_

 _When no answer came, he walked further though their property to find the cave._

 _God, what would he do without her? Morticia was his world, his heart beat for her, his soul exitsted for her, his entire being lusted for her. He remembered everything they had done together. He remembered the way her lips felt against his both the first and last times they touched. He would not only kill and die for her, he would die without her._

 _Morticia was in complete darkness. Usually that would thrill her, but not without... someone._

 _Terrified, she no longer could recall just what that someone looked like. Or much about anything, really. She couldn't recall how old they were, or his name. Or if he existed, or if it was just a dream._

 _Her fears about it all being a dream were very much realized when she awoke_ _in her bed... her bed from twenty five years ago. She looked at the black, silk and constricting long sleeved dress with the slit in the side that she wore the day she met Gomez. Crying, she ran to her cracked mirror and with terror, figured that that beautiful man, the man that who's name, became less and less clear as it progressed, and that wonderful life... was all a dream. All of it wasn't real, none of it was real. It was all just some sort of cruel figment of her imagination._

 _"Morticia!" She heard her mother call. "Morticia, Ophelia's suitor is here!"_

 _Morticia, feeling absolutely disoriented and broken, ran down the stairs. "Good morning, m... mother. Good morning, mother."_

 _"Morning? It's four in the afternoon, girl. Now, intorduce yourself to Gomez." Esmeralda shook her head._

 _"Gomez?" Morticia looked at the man. He was her age, eighteen._

 _"Yes. I don't believe we've met." Gomez kissed the lady's hand, he seemed to be quite the gentleman._

 _"Are you sure?" Morticia asked, knowing she'd seen him somewhere... possibly in that dream._

 _"Yes, quite." Gomez linked arms with Ophelia then and kissed her cheek._

 _"Well, Ophelia, come on! We have to male the arrangemnts for the wedding. You trust Morticia to cater to him, don't you?"_

 _"Yes, of course, mother." Ophelia obliged, after flashing her sister a hands off my man look. _

_Morticia sat on the chair opposite him. "Gomez-"_

 _Gomez stoodup and pulled her to the couch. "No. No time for speaking, I want you."_

 _"Excuse me?" Morticia was taken aback._

 _"I love your sister. Her personality thrills me. But her body doesn't."_

 _"Gomez, I believe you're trying to tell me something."_

 _Gomez got a hungry look in his eyes. "I am. I'm telling you that I want to be with you at night. I want to make you mine."_

 _"You... want me to be tour mistress?" Morticia asked, unsure now of just how good that dream had been._

 _"No, no, no. Just my sexual partner."_

 _"What does Ophelia think about all of this?"_

 _"Nothing, I haven't told her. Just say you'll do it."_

 _"This is insane. Gomez, I want you but I can't-"_

 _Gomez began to kiss her. She bit his lip, he took it as a sign to keep going. He reached his hand into her dress and cupped her breast._

 _Morticia's eyes shot open and the world seemed to stop. Had that man in the dream just wanted her for her body? Or had the fictional man loved her, but he was simply unreal?_

 _Meanwhile, Gomez had searched three years and not yet found Morticia. He was beginnng to give up hope. One night, on his wife's birthday, he went down to the library and looked at an old, dusty photo album. In it were pictures of eighteen year old Gomez and Morticia on their wedding day. Tears stung his eyes. Oh, God! What he wouldn't give to see her again. Before he could stop himself, he removed his pocket knife and carved Morticia Andora Addams' innitials in his arm._

 _His blood dripped onto the pictorian red wine lips of his bride. And soon, he blacked out._

 _He was back in his childhood bedrom. He was eighteen again, and his wife's innitials were still carved in his arm. Knowing what he had to do, he took the family car without a word to his parents and drove to the city of Ivorybrooke... the coty his darling cara mia grew up in._

 _Morticia was fighting off Gomez best she could, although somewhat unsure if she wanted to. Everything she saw as fighting off, he saw as leading on._

 _Gomez was kissing her up her arm and licked her thigh, as it was exposed._

 _"Gomez, please. We-"_

 _He ignored her._

 _Just as Morticia yelled, Stop!, Gomez burst through the door._

 _Just then, Gomez burst through the door._

 _Morticia looked in the doorway._ _He looked just like the man in her dream, from what she could remember._

 _"Morticia!" Gomez yelled and drew his sword._

 _"Gomez?" Morticia struggled under... Gomez._

 _"Sir, get off of my wife!" Gomez yelled. "And prepare to meet your end."_

 _"Gomez, wait, don't kill him!" Morticia had to warn him._

 _"Morticia, I know I've not needed to kill for you yet, but I'm willing to start with him._

 _"He's-"_

 _"What is the meaning of this?" Gomez number two asked and looked up at the man with the sword._

 _"You." Morticia finished. She had to get her head on straight here. "Gomez, get off of me right this minute."_

 _Gomez number two finally obliged._

 _"Alright, both of you, just stand there for a minute. Now, one of you was so kindly offering to save me while the other sexually assaulted me."_

 _"You did what?" Gomez number one had never been more angry._

 _"Not now, Gomez, please. Now, I have had a rather challenging day, I don't know what to believe anymore."_

 _"Morticia, darling, we have to go." While Gomez was mid-drive, all of the REAL past events hit him like a ton of bricks, and he almost crashed into a tree._

 _"I can't go anywhere with anyone. Now Gomez," Morticia eyed Gomez number one. " I am very confused as to why you think we're married, as I think I would recall walking down the alter and looking into those handsome eyes. I had a dream about you. But since it was about you, it was about both of you."_

 _Gomez was crushed that Morticia didn't remember him. He had to make her remember. "Morticia, darling, please. Please, remember." He was begging her._

 _"Gomez... I can't. So, whichever one of you is the man from my dream... make me remember whatever I'm supposed to remember. Right now." Morticia commanded. SOMEONE had to take control of the situation._

 _"Easy." Gomez number two said. "This man is nut, don't believe a word he says. You need not remember anything, your mind is already where it should be." He placed a hand on her shoulder._

 _Morticia shrugged him off. "Alright. Gomez, what's your agrument?"_

 _Gomez number one kneeled before her and kissed her hand. "Oh, darling... you and I married. We had twenty two wonderful years together, my dear, we had a daughter. And we had two sons. Not a second does go by that I don't thank the universe and fate that you're mine. I can't make you remember but I want you to know that you can trust me. Even if you don't remember, you always have been able to and you always will. I love you, Tish."_

 _Tish... that name. That name that used to send chills down her spine, that name that used to turn her from angry or up_ _set to beautifully passionate. That name that Gomez Alonzo Addams called her every day for exactly twenty two years._

 _Tears welled up in Morticia's eyes. "Oh, mon amour... I love you too." She ran staight into his arms and Gomez embraced her like his life depended on it. And in a way, it did. She was his oxygen._

 _"Oh, God, Tish! My angel of darkness..." Gomez kissed her, his tounge not wanting to seperate from her mouth. "I'm so glad you're alright."_

 _"I am now, my dearest."_

 _"You believe that grabage?" Gomez two asked._

 _"It's not garbage..." Morticia held Gomez close and eyed Gomez number two. "And you're not Gomez. Who the hell are you?"_

 _Gomez two's eyes flashed violet. "Oh, Morticia..." He spoke, in a demonic voice. "Why must you ruin everything?"_

 _"Gomez, we have to go." Morticia said._

 _Gomez held his sword to the man's throat. "Not until I kill the bastard."_

 _"Gomez, we have to leave, now."_

 _Gomez knew she was right. He cut the man's wrist with the sword and ran out with Morticia. The screams of the demonic voice could be heard until they got safely into the car and began to drive._

 _"Gomez... thank you for saving me." Morticia broke the silence._

 _"Tish..." Gomez held her delecate hand. "Always." He paused. They had come to a red light. He looked into her eyes. "Morticia Andora Addams, I have something to show you."_

 _Morticia smiled. "What?"_

 _Gomez lifted his sleeve to reveal her innitials. "I missed you, cara mia. And oh how, I love you."_

 _"Oh, Gomez..." Morticia traced her initials and kissed him."Mon sauvage..."_

 _"Amore de mi vida..." Gomez bit his lip. "_ _You know, seeing you twenty two years younger... you seemed to have gotten even more beautiful as the years went by._

 _They changed back into their fourty year old selves then. Morticia was wearing her dress heels and her nightgown, with her black cloak, and Gomez his usual attire._

 _"Darling... so have you. Then again, even when we're old, you'll always be my handsome darling Gomez."_

 _"Oh, Morticia... and you as well. Darling," Gomez began to drive again. "This_ _feels real. It feels like I have lived wihout you for three years. I felt the pain when I made that mark. I watched myself bleed, Tish. Alison is trying to torment us with our minds by destroying us with them."_

 _"What are we going to do? Where will we go? If we're creating our other family members in our minds... wait, how are we together? How is that possible?"_

 _"You know how I always tell you my heart beats only for you, and how you always say our souls our bonded?" Gomez asked._

 _Morticia nodded, Gomez did as well._

 _"It's true."_

 _"So our minds..."_

 _"What is it we said a couple of nights ago?" Gomez asked. "You don't cross my mind."_

 _"You live in it." Morticia's eyes grew wide._

 _Gomez kissed her hand. He wasn't even sure where he was driving, but his gut took him to the nearby beach. He parked the car._

 _"Gomez, mon amour, why are we at the beach?"_

 _"I don't know." Gomez responded, honestly._

 _He got out of the car and opened the door for Morticia._

 _All of the sudden, it began to rain. It looked like a terrential downpour, but it felt delicate and light._

 _Gomez walked with his wife to the shoreline. What he saw, startled him beyond belief. "Morticia... what do you see in the sand?"_

 _Morticia looked. She saw five S.O.S. signals __written in the sand. They were in the handwriting of Máma, Fester, Pubert, Wednesday... and Pugsley._

 _Morticia gasped and grabbed Gomez. "We have to save them."_

 _"How?" Gomez asked._

 _Morticia took her shoes off. "By calling to them." She then ran into the water, and had to go so far out, she was up to her shoulders. Her husband went husband chasing after her._

 _She was compeltely drenched but she didn't care. She had retrieved it... a stick and a peice of bloodstained glass floating in the water. She was ice cold now, shivering._

 _Gomez took off his jacket, instinctively and put it around his frozen wife._

 _Morticia fell to her knees near the signals, and handed Gomez the stick. "Gomez?"_

 _"Yes, Querida?"_

 _Morticia looked into his eyes. "Help me write."_

 _Then, together, Morticia using the glass and Gomez using the stick... they wrote, WE HEAR YOU. in the sand, just above the signals._

 _Then, Gomez used the stick to draw lines connecting each signal to their's. One signal dissapeared and inexplicably, the lines formed a pentagram._

 _Morticia had a strong gut feeling and ran to the car. She retreived the book she had read on Alison's kind. She thne ran back to the signals and knelt down by them._

 _Their signal was black. Then the others weare each the main color that one of Alison's witches were waearing._

 _Morticia opened the spellbook and her eyes grew wide. She looked up at Gomez. "Gomez, remember this for me."_

 _Gomez nodded._

 _"Remember that I know what the witches' deadly sins are. Are you ready?"_

 _"Yes."_

 _Morticia traced over the seven deadly sins written in the book. "Ashley, pride. Claire, lust. Loralie, vanity. And Margie, sloth. Got it?"_

 _Gomez nodded._

 _Morticia stood then, held by Gomez. They waited for hours, nothing else happened. They stayed there until midnight, when something_ _did._

 _A huge flash of blue light came, and Gomez held his wife tighter, although they were both blinded by the blaze._

 _A moment later, there was silence. The glowing stopped, andthe rain fell slowly, soundlessly._

 _Morticia and her husband looked at the place where the signals used to be. They were gone. But their eyes panned upwards when they saw eight pairs of feet._

 _Fester was the first to speak. "Is it really you?"_

 _Gomez smiled. "Yes, old boy. It is."_

 _Fester, Máma, Pubert and Wednesday ran, and hugged Gomez and Morticia._

 _"Where are we?" Máma asked. She then looked at Pubert and Wednesday and realized they were crying._

 _Wednesday ran to her parents. "I thought you were dead!" She shreaiked and embraced them, they cried too._

 _Pubert embraced Máma. "Don't ever leave me alone. Not until I grow up someday. Okay?" He asked._

 _Máma nodded._

Alsion's voice could now be heard. "Oh... well aren't you two a pair of lethal lovers." She said mockingly, referring ot Gomez and his wife trying to foil her plans.

 _"Leave us alone!" Wednesday screamed._

"Not on Loralie's life." Alison replied.

 _"What the hell did you do with my son?" Morticia yelled to her._

"Well that's what I'd like to tell you about. Pugsley is with me. And unfortunatley, you've all come out unscathed from the mindwarp. So, now I have to kick it up a notch and make it all real."

 _"What do you mean?" Pubert asked._

"Oh, child, I mean that you can't be destoryed while your parents are still around, or while Pugsley is still in control of himself. So, I think I'll kill two birds with one stone and take both parties out at once."

 _"You're going to kill my brother? And my parents?" A crying Pubert asked._

"No, my dear boy, just your parents. I'm going to do something far worse to your brother. Or rather, he is."

 _"Damn you!" Wednesday screamed. "What are you saying?"_

"I'm saying, Pugsley is the one who's going to dispose of all of you."

After that sentiment, demonic laughter could be heard and _the ground began to shake violently. Gomez and Morticia, still holding one another, blacked out to the sound of their son, Pugsley's muffled screams._ And then they dissapeared.


	21. Pluet Sunt Salis

Morticia and Gomez awoke in seperate dungeon cells. They saw only blackness infront of them, but a blue light did shine above them.

Morticia was completely dry now, looked as if she hadn't even been in the water. She looked the same as she did when she blacked out the first time, as did her husband.

She looked over her shoulder to see Gomez. She tried to get up and run to him but she realized her wrists and ankles were in shackles. She sat up and screamed. "Gomez! Darling, look to your left!"

Gomez did so and attempted what his wife had, but came to the same realization that he was bound in shackles. "Querida, I'm riht here."

"I see you." Morticia replied and leaned against the wall, as Gomez was now doing. There was a long and heavy silence. "Gomez..."

"Yes, Tish?"

"Do you remember Debbie?"

Gomez nodded. "No matter how many times I try my hand at forgetting."

"Well, that's all starting to look rather good now."

Gomez chuckled. "As always, mi corazón, you are right."

"I love you, mon cher."

Gomez wanted so badly to hold her. "I love you too, my dearest."

Alison clapped, slowly. "Why... aren't you both so sweet together?" Disgusted, she nearly threw up in her mouth. "I hate it." She en eyed Morticia, evily. "And I hate you."

"Why?" Morticia asked. "Because I love my son?"

"Because your love for your son is getting in the way of my need for him. And because you're not the most pleasant of people."

"I don't aspire to be." Morticia replied.

Alison rolled her eyes. "Girls! Bring the boy, and hurry up!" She snapped her fingers.

Loralie, Ashley, Margie and Claire then grabbed Pugsley, struggling against his binds, and raised their hands. He was instantly detained.

"Leave our son alone!" Gomez yelled at her.

"No." Alison said. "Don't worry, I won't kill him. _He's_ going to kill _you_."

"Not in a million years." Pugsley spat.

"Not in a milion years, you fool. _Now_." Alison forced his head up using her magic, and forced his eyes to meet her's. "Now, my dear boy... what was it you said to me a while ago?"

"I said I'd do anything for you." Pugsley sounded like a puppy, begging for a treat from it's master.

"Good. Now, get on your knees and stay there." Alison commanded.

Pugsley did so, without hesitation.

"Very good." Alison turned once again to Morticia. "Now, Morticia, you _are_ clever. You figured out exactly what sins we all represent. We were scared you would use it against us."

Morticia said nothing.

"I see we aren't talking." Alison smiled. "Well, very well then. We'll get right to it." She paused. "Pugsley... I don't know if I beleive you're devoted. Use the general sign of submission to power."

Pugsley nodded and kissed Alison's shoe.

Satisfied, Alison used a simple hand motion, and Pugsley was made to rise to his feet.

"Now, Pugsley... I want you to walk over to your mother... and tie her up to that stake over there."

Alison and the girls whispered as Pugsley seee to toy with the idea.

Morticia looked at a frightened Gomez. "Mon cher..." She whispered. "Listen to me carefully."

Gomez nodded.

"J'ai un flacon de potion caché dans ma robe. Je vais l'utiliser. Dès que je le ferai, vous aurez une minute pour me sauver." She said. "Alright?"

"I'll do anything to protect you." He whispered.

"I know. I love you, mon sauvage."

"I love you to, amour de mi vida."

"I trust you." Morticia ended the conversation. She saw her son walking towards her. "Pugsley, please. Darling, you don't wanna do this."

"No, mother. I don't." He replied.

 _"Pugsley."_ Alison reprimanded.

"Then _stop_." Morticia's voice was hoarse.

"I _can't_!" Pugsley yelled and moved faster.

"Pugsley, I don't care what you do. I love you. I love you more than this wretched woman does. I know this isn't you. I know my darling baby boy is still in there somewhere."

"No, he isn't." Alison stated.

Morticia ignored her. "I know it, my little vermin. Please don't let me be wrong."

Pugsley grabbed her and tied her to the pole.

"Very good." Alison smiled. She then handed Claire a match.

Claire lit it.

"Now, Claire, set the bitch ablaze."

Claire was just about to throw the match, but Pugsley looked into his mother's eyes, ran behind Claire and grabbed her.

"Pugsley, what the fuck are you doing?" Alison was furious.

"I'm defying you!" Pugsley yelled, pulled a knife out of his pocket with salt on it and held it to Claire's throat.

Claire cried out in pain.

"Mother, you _were_ wrong. You're baby boy isn't in here. Not anymore. Now, mother, I'm a man. I could never hurt you." Pugsley looked Alison directly in the eyes and pressed the knife closer to the lust-filled witch's throat. "A long time ago, the best woman I know, told me that there's a difference between pain and hurt. And _nobody_ hurts my mother."

"But... Pugsley-"

Alison was cut off by Claire letting go of the lit match, and flames lighting the wood around the pole on fire.

Pugsley dropped the knife and screamed. "No!"

Morticia was overcome with heat. The vile was inside of her sleeve. All she had to do was grab it, fast. She toyed with her sleeves, frustrated. Finally, she grabbed the vile. She slipped her hands out of the loose ropes and opened the vile. The contents were poured all over the blaze. Immediatley, the fire stopped.

Gomez knew this was his moment. He realized there was a weak bar, and quickly snapped it. He then crawled through the large oppening in the cell and ran to Morticia. He jumped over the blaze and grabbed her before anybody could react. He then pulled water from a large vile in his pocket and demolished the flames.

The couple ran. Pugsley ran after them.

"Grab them! Grab Pugsley! Just... damn it!"

Pugsley threw a vile of salt at both his parents. "Use it! I'll be fine!"

Gomez and Morticia nodded and split off.

Ashley ran up to Morticia and grabbed her. "I always said I was the better witch out of all of them."

Morticia laughed. "You may be better, dear. But _I'm_ the best." Morticia then pulled the vile from her cleavage and poured salt all over Ashley, disabling her.

Ashley screamed, her skin burned but salt wouldn't stop scroching it. _"Stop! Stop, stop! Please!"_

"Crescere!" Morticia screamed. It was Latin, for _grow_.

 _"No!"_ Ashley screamed. The salt spread all over her body. _"Please, what do you want?"_

"I want you to submit."

"What?" Ashely cried.

"You're made of pride. And I'm going to use your most powerful weapon to destory you. Pride is everything you are. Submit, admit you made countless errors, admit that you are wrong, and admit that there are plenty of other witches who are _far_ better than you will _ever_ be."

 _"No!"_

"Crescere."

Ashlet broke down. "Okay! I have made countless errors..." She paused.

 _"Cresc-"_

"I'm _wrong_! I'm so very wrong, and there are plenty of other witches who are far... far better than I will ever be."

"Good. _Crescere_."

 _"What?"_ Ashley screamed as her skin burned worse and she slowly was losing conciousness.

Soon, all of the other witches, who's sins were used against them, were in similar states. That is, all except for Alison.

"I don't need them." Alison said, when she was surrounded. "I don't need any of them." She was trembling. "I'm warning you!" She shouted as they came closer.

"What are you going to do, Alison? You live to control others. Now, you don't control anyone." Pugsley spoke.

"You've lost your power, haven't you, Alison?" Morticia asked.

"No..." Alison backed up until she hit bars. And then the cage she unknowingly walked into closed. It brought her into the air. "No, no, no!" She screamed. "What is this?"

"A trap. This cage was here, in the corner of the room. All I had to do was cover it in salt."

Alison's flesh began to tear, her skin began to burn, and she screamed in pain. "God, I'm dying!"

"Speaking of salt... Morticia?" Gomez kissed his wife's hand. "Would you do the honors?"

"With pleasure, mon amour." Morticia smiled, wickedly at Alison, giving her a taste of her own medicine. "Alison, rexite the spell to get my family back or suffer the consequences."

"You're bluffing..." Alison breathed through the pain.

"Am I?" Morticia gave Alison the death glare. _"_ _Pluet sunt, salis_! _!"_

 _"No!"_ Alison screamed as a gallon of salt poured from the cage and rained down on her. She screamed, cried and writed as her flesh melted away. "Just a gallon?"

"Would you like to try for a barrel?" Morticia asked.

 _"Yes."_

Morticia then repeated the phrase, _may salt rain down_ , and a barrel of salt poured over a now naked Alison.

"Care to try for a new phrase? I'm thinking, _death by salt_?"

Alison cried and shook her head. _"No! Stop! Stop, I'm begging you!"_

 _"Then recite the spell."_ Morticia commanded.

"Okay." Alison now realized her last moments would surely be spent, bending to the will of the woman she most despised. "Release them from the mind. Release the mind from them. Bring the distorted universe... back..." She was wheezing. "Back to the undistored reality. I command you, Addams'... awaken." She was exhausted, in pain and in tears. "Ex animo dimittere eos..." She stopped.

Morticia didn't miss a beat. " _Pluet sun-"_

Alison continued immisdeatley. "Animus ex dimittere eos. Adducere... ad universum conveniebat vel distorto undistorted re. Quod praecipip tibi. Addams'... suscitant."

"Where are they?" Morticia asked.

"At home. You are in some sort of spell realm I conjured..." She coughed up blood and screamed again. "I conjured up. You should return home... at any moment. You destroyed me."

"Not yet, we haven't."

"Fine. Pour salt all over me, kill me."

Morticia shook her head. "No. No, Alison what I'm going to do to you is far worse."

The cage lowered, and Alison sat, stunned.

"Crawl over here." Morticia commanded.

Alison obeyed and inched over to Morticia.

"Alison, you are a very clever witch. And you can easily rebuild everything you've lost. And for the sake of my family, I just can't let that happen." Morticia held out her hand. "Pugsley, please retreive the spellbook from Margie's back pocket."

Pugsley did so and brought it to his mother.

Morticia placed one hand on the book and raised the other. "I hereby proclaim that I am not doing this out of pure spite or for mere personal satisfaction."

"No." Alison knew what was happening.

"Alison... ex-leader of your now non-existent coven, as new leader, I now strip you and all members not including the present leader, of all power, magick and any threatening non-magick. I now demolish this coven, as it is an insult to witchcraft itself."

Alison shriveled up inside. All of the sudden, both she and all the members turned into average humans, only the old ones looked old now.

"Alison... hand me the match."

Alison nodded and gave Morticia the match.

Morticia then knelt down and set the book on the floor. "Is this your book?"

"Don't-" Alison was held back by Pugsley, who needed not to put forth much effort.

Morticia talked to the book as if it were an infant. "So you're the onw that's been helping her to all the damage? _Tsk, tsk, tsk._ Alright, there's no easy way to say this. It's time for you to burn." She breifly looked up at Alison. "You weren't used responsibly."

She then took the match and set the book on fire.

By the time the book was done buring, all of the Addamses were back home in their dungeon... and so were the witches.

Pugsley and his mother stood over the pitiful women.

"Leave my house. _Now._ " Morticia commanded.

Pugsley held Alison's jaw so she looked him in the eye. " _Nobody_ hurts my family. Got that? If any of you ever try to contact me or talk to me, if you think about me or even ask about me or anyone else in my family for that matter, ever again, you won't walk out of my house alive. You should be kissing my mother's shoes right now becuase you could be dead." Pugsley eyed her then, waiting.

"What are you waiting for?" A weak Alison asked.

"I'm waiting for you to thank her. And to thank me. Infact, I want you to thank everyone in this room. And for my mother, I want you to give her the general sign of submission."

Alison kneeled before the family. "Thank... you." She coughed. "Thank you." She then kneeled before Morticia and kissed her shoe. Disgusted with herself, she spoke. "Thank you for sparing my life, Morticia."

Morticia smiled. "You can stand, dear. I don't want you to submit to me forever. I want you to stay away from me, forever. Now, please, get up and walk yourself and your friends out of my family's home."

The witches all nodded and ran out.

"Good riddance!" Máma shouted.

The family laughed and retired to the living room, where they all talked about their fears and stories from the hell that Alison had put them through.

It was now nightfall, and Gomez carried his wife just as he had on their wedding night, all the way up to their bedroom for some much needed alone-time.

"Morticia..." Gomez drew out her name, love is his voice as he layed his black beauty on their marital bed, ontop of black, silken sheets. He kissed her passionatley.

"Gomez..." Morticia moaned. "You have a fictional three years to make up for tonight, Gomez."

"I'll enjoy every moment of it. My heart beats for you, mi amore."

"Oh, Gomez..." Mortcia's tounge danced with his.

Gomez took his time, gently removing her clothing, as she was spent from recent events.

Soon, they were naked, in eachother's arms. Gomez, on top of his lovely goddess of the night, kissed her all pver her porcelain body. His hands were entangled in her hair as he whispered Italian terms of endearmwnt to his one and only.

As the night progressed, things got more heated. Gomez always did treat her like a peice of nearly unshatterable glass at first. And when both parites screamed eachother's names in esctasy, they thanked God that they didn't let their son make too huge of a mistake.

Cousin Itt officiated the wedding, but thankfully the marraige papers that Pugsley and Alison both signed weren't even legal.


	22. I Fixed it for You

Gomez was dressed now, and decided to let his exhausted wife sleep another hour. Before even thinking of breakfast, he walked into the living room, where his son was sitting on the couch, looking out the window.

Gomez cleare his throat, and Pugsley looked up.

"Father, what are you doing up? You usually watch mother sleep for at least a few minutes before she wakes up."

Gomez chuckled. "Pugsley, son... I wanted to talk to you."

Pugsley stood. "I know, Father. I made a huge mess of things. I learned from my mistakes. From this point on, I am no longer going to date anyone you don't like." He paused, in thought. "Or anyone who's older than me."

Gomez slapped his son on the back. "Pugsley, it wasn't all your fault, it wasn't all my fault or your mother's... _eapecially_ not your mother's. Yes, things did get messed up. But we worked it out as a family."

"Yea, I guess you're right."

"Let me tell you that if not for you helping us out, some of us wouldn't be alive." Gomez smiled at his son.

They then sat on the couch.

"Come to think of it, you never told me just how you managed to not be fooled by Alison."

"It was mother. It was her love, I can't explain it. But I think it was also because I put in contacts."

"Oh, I see..." Gomez nodded in understanding. "How did we raise such a clever young man?"

"You didn't. I couldn't see what Alison was doing."

"Maybe not at first. Nobody really can. Love is blind, afterall." Gomez.

"Yea. So is hypnosis." He laughed. "I understand, though. I'm sure when you met mother, you overlooked a thing or two."

"It was different for me and your mother, son. She has no flaws." He laughed and slapped his son's knee.

"Oh." Pugsley smiled, and chuckled a bit. "Father, can you ever forgive me? After what I did to the family?"

"Pugsley, are you kidding? After everything you did... I couldn't be prouder."

They stood.

"What?" Pugsley asked.

"You heard me. Pugsley, you're right. You're a man, now. You became a man when you kicked Alison out of the house, and when you helped save your mother. And then when you kicked Alison out of this house, for the second time. Son, you will _always be_ your mother's little boy, let's get that straight. But Pugsley, we've seen you grow up and mature in ways that prove your a man." Gomez girpped his son's shoulders. "And not just any man. An _Addams_ man."

A tear ran down Pugsley's cheek. "I'm only sorry I ripped Grandpa Eisenheimer's tie."

" _We_ ripped it. And actually, I have a present for you."

"What is it?"

Gomez reached into his pocket and pulled out Grandpa Eisenheimer's tie. "He would want you to have it. Oh, but, that's just an heirloom. No, what I'd really like to give you is this." Gomez handed Pugsley Grandpa Eisenheimer's tie. He then took off his own tie, and put it around Pugsley's neck. " _Now_ , you're an Addams man, my son."

Pugsley adjusted the tie to fit his neck, and stood proudly. "Thank you, father!" He then embraced him, and for the first time in his life, felt brave. "I wanna be like you."

"Oh, son... I want you to be like _you_."

"I love you, father." He squeezed him.

"I love you too, son."

Wednesday and Joel -whom she had found at the local police station, as midway through his flight, he made the plane turn around and go back so he could tell the police everything, no matter how crazy they thought him- walked into the livign room with their luggage, ready to leave.

"We said goodbye to Mother, Father. Don't worry." Wednesday said and stood at the doorway. Ø

Gomez and Pugsley walked over to her and Joel.

Pugsley and Gomez both gave Joel a _bro-hug_.

"It was good to see you again, Joel." Gomez bid him goodbye.

"You too, Mr. Addams. Bye, Pugsley!" He said to Mr. Addams' son.

"Bye!"

Joel then took the luggage to the taxi outside, and Wednesday bid goodbye to her father. She then kissed Pugsley on the cheek and touched the tie he held in his hand. "I fixed it for you."

Pugsley smiled, reminiscing at how he would say that to her when he chopped her dolls' heads off, when they were children. "I love you, Wednesday."

"Oh, God, Pugsley. Don't make me _ill_." She said and left.

"You love me! I know you do!" He called to her, teasing.

Five months seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. And Pugsley fussed with his father's tie around his neck, by the door as snow fell out the window.

"She'll be here any minute!" His voice rang throughout the house.

The whole family made an effort to look their very best, even better than usual, for Pugsley's new love. He talked about her every day. She consumed his life, and they didn't even know her. Gomez couldn't have been more proud.

Morticia stood by the door, as her husband held her. "Gomez, do you think that this girl will be...

"Older than Máma's mother?" Gomez asked.

Morticia chuckled. "Mon cher, you're terrible." She teased. "But yes, that is a concern."

Gomez rubbed her back. "Don't worry. I have a good feeling about this one."

The doorbell rang.

"I'll get it, Lurch!" Morticia called. She then walked to the door and answered it. It was a woman in a charcoal grey, off-shoulder sweater dress with black heeled ankle boots and blonde, wavy hair. She looked to be Morticia's age, although Morticia looked around thirty. "Hello, I'm Mrs. Addams..." Morticia almost gulped, afraid of the next question's answer. "Is your daughter in the car?"

"My name's Diveena. And yes, Delilah's in the car." The woman smiled, teary-eyed. "She just found out she's cancer-free last month!"

As Morticia let the pair in, Pugsley eyed Delilah from the stairs, lovingly and desperatley. When she did look up at him, he smiled the biggest, and most unhappy smile.


End file.
